


The First Love of the World

by AngelasAshes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones (Video Game 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - The Battle of the Blackwater, Canon-Typical Violence, Cersei Lannister Bashing, Character Death, Daenerys is killed, Dead Joffrey Baratheon, Domestic Fluff, Domestic smut, Drunk Cersei Lannister, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Bonding, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist is a boss, Fluff and Humor, Game of thrones reimagined, Happy Lannisters, Jaime Lannister Needs a Hug, Jaime Lannister Redemption, Jaime Lannister marries and has a happy life, Jaime and Tywin have a strong relationship, Jaime is captured after the Battle of Blackwater bay, Joffrey Baratheon is a Little Shit, Lannister legacy is saved, Major Character Undeath, Major Original Character(s), Margaery Sansa Friendship, Margaery Tyrell Lives, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Original House, Original House of Essos, POV Tywin Lannister, Panthyraal, Pregnancy and Birth, Robb stark dead, Sibling Bonding, Sister House of Martells, Smut, Strong female friendship, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, Tywin being Tywin, Tywin falls in love, Tywin has babies, Tywin is boss, Tywin protective, Tywin remarries, Tywin's old allies, jaime redemption arc is complete, marriage of Cersei to the Tyrells, original character death, royal pregnancy of Queen Margaery, tywin is a daddy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 75,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelasAshes/pseuds/AngelasAshes
Summary: I have a good story with a lot of steam and a good OC, so please be patient.This is the tale where the Great Lion of Lannister agrees to remarry, to secure his legacy after his eldest son and heir is captured!A new House has been imagined by the name of "Panthyraal". It is the sister house of Martells in the south east. The Seat of House Panthyraal is "Tygrysaar" which connects Essos and Westeros. It is a rich House because of its trade in the Disputed Lands and the Free Cities of Essos.Tywin is helped by Alizaar Panthyraal, the Lord of Panthyraal to win the Battle of Blackwater bay. With him, he brings his young daughter "Andromeda" and his youngest triplet sons. They also brought the largest army of a million men.Andromeda is betrothed to Tywin to form an alliance. But little does Tywin know that this marriage will not only save his son and his ass in the War of Five Kings, but will also give him a new chance at life.  Theirs is the flower of the ages, and the first love of the world! Stay tuned to watch a Game of Thrones as the union of a Lion and a Tigress fights off Dragons, wolves, krakens and other beasts of the world of the dead!
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Willas Tyrell, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister/Original Female Character(s), Joffrey Baratheon/Margaery Tyrell, Kevan Lannister/Dorna Swyft, Margaery Tyrell/Original Male Character(s), Melisandre of Asshai/Stannis Baratheon, Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling, Sansa Stark/Original Male Character(s), Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister/Shae, Tywin Lannister/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 171
Kudos: 292





	1. New Beginnings

**Andromeda’s** eyes glazed over the plain yellow terrain of the Crownlands. Though it had only been one week since they had been riding from Storm’s End towards King's Landing, it felt like a lifetime to her. The pain in her back was continuous, and her eyes were tired of seeing the same green nothingness of the Western Lands. The sun shone harshly on the barren land and there was no sight of a river anywhere. The horizon was a smooth yellow strip of land. There were no huge trees, or small, soft mountains. Maester Yali had told her, that she would see huge trees and large landscapes new to her eastern eyes, but till now she had only encountered stunted trees and she-oaks.

  
This was her first visit to King’s Landing, although she had heard about it her entire life. They had all grown up hearing about it. As little children, when they sat huddled around their Maester under the tree, they heard stories of the sacking of King’s Landing and Aegon’s Conquest. They drew dragons on the backs of their books and enacted the kidnapping of Lyanna Stark and Robert’s conquest. They had heard that King’s Landing was seething in corruption, consumption and ruins. A doom after all. They had also heard that it was the most opulent city. With rubies and sapphires in their land, it had flourished like a prince under his rightful crown. Ladies, and even lords were carried in litters and no one had to pick up after them. All the tales of the Kings and Queens, the many betrayals and the endless wars had made Andromeda feel giddy in her belly. It was enchanting to her to hear about the lives of those so far from her, and she half expected to see ravages of wars, or castles as big as the sky on her way to the Crownlands, but till now, she been met with nothing but the vast nothingness of a dry landscape. She felt her eyes shut and was pulled in a shallow sleep, the one which is brought by being bored to such an extent as she was.

  
The carriage rider woke her up with a jolt. Andromeda opened her eyes and realized that they must be nearing King’s Landing. A commotion could be heard from outside. The sight of other people made her spirits rise. She moved the purple curtains with her fingers and saw the hubbub of a market sprawled along the road. A smile broke on her tired face. Magnificent bed spreads and throws were hanging from the makeshift stalls. Colorful bangles and jewelry were spread on a carpet. Old ladies were selling spices she had never seen and young children were gathered around toy stalls pawning their old hides for new toys. Women were buying vegetables and men were weighing swords. A man in the corner displayed a wall of shields. All with different sigils on them. He was painting what seemed to her a yellow sunflower on a blue field. Sunflowers. She loved wild sunflowers. Sunflowers as tall as her. Her father had made an entire garden for her on her 11th birthday, bustling with sunflowers and roses. But they were tamed, and Andromeda did not care for them. So, every morning, after her lessons with the Maester, she would sneak out with her sister-in-law Vega to the fields near the river to sit amongst the wild sunflowers. They would play for hours in the fields, until the guards came looking for them.

  
Tears almost came to her eyes as she remembered the sunflower fields and Vega. Vega had been her companion since childhood. She was the wife of her eldest brother Orion. They were like sisters, more like a mother and daughter, surely somewhere in between.  
She could not think about Vega then. She pushed her thoughts in the back of her mind and looked farther in the city. She could see the city coming closer to her. Tall buildings around a huge castle and a tall wall. King's Landing sure was a big town, as they had described it to her. She woke up her handmaids and they began dressing her up. The excited prattle of her handmaids roused her cat too. Onyx stretched his legs and purred awake. The handmaids helped her smooth the creases out of her dress and made her hair. They gave her jewelry to wear- earrings made of gold discs with garnets in the middle and rings of large amethysts were chosen to match her deep red dress. While dressing her, they whispered how the lords of the Landing will be enamored by her. How they will swarm about her like bees and how she will be married to a Lord of high birth in a sennight. These words meant nothing to her, as she knew how it was the nature of her handmaids to pump her pride with airy words.

  
Andromeda did not tell them that she would not want that. She knew she had to marry. Her father had explained it to her that to strengthen the ties between the East and the West she must marry. And so, will her brothers. She had been invited as a guest to Joffrey Baratheon, the Crown king of Westeros. Along with her, her younger brothers Archer, Apollo and Aster had accompanied her too, escorted by their uncle Hendrix, who had represented Panthyraal in King’s Landing many times. They had arrived in 10 carriages and no less than a thousand horsemen and a thousand foot-soldiers. A very small number compared to the army her father had gathered which ran up to a million of both. Her father was to arrive a moon later, bringing the entirety of their standing army to rally to the cause of King Joffrey.

  
Andromeda knew that the King himself did not have an army of a million men. And that was one of the reasons why they had tried to form a tie with the East, before anyone else could and win the support of Panthyraal.

  
Andromeda, the only daughter of the Lord of Panthyraal was surely a gem to all of Westeros. They knew of her father's prowess and her brothers' powers. They knew that her army was the largest and her father was second only to the Lord Lannister in terms of riches. They knew that at the young age of 18, her brothers had never lost a war and that her father had never had an uprising against him. The East had lived in harmony under the wardenship of Panthyraal for over 50 years. The ripples of instability in King’s Landing had not reached Tygrysaar. All these facts added to her prize as a bride. Her unmatched beauty did not go against her reputation as well. And yet this princess of unmatched beauty, as they said, sat inside the carriage, as nervous as a mare about to be branded.

  
As they entered the main city, a stench of sweat and salt permeated the carriage. The biggest city of Westeros sprawled in front of her like a coiled rattlesnake. The city seemed endless. She knew not where it began and where it ended. She had not seen so many people at once in her life. Even at the games and the balls and the public executions, she had not seen so many common people walking about. The people stood aside and the way was cleared for them. They peered at the gold brandished carriages as they begged for food. After a winding path up to the castle which made her uneasy, they finally reached the castle gates.

  
The Red Keep appeared like a tall resting dragon. They trundled inside the gates up to the castle. Finally, they reached up the main entrance. Andromeda knew that they had reached the entrance when the carriages stopped in front of the large group of odd people that stood out to welcome them. She let the curtains drop, as her hands started getting clammy. She was sitting upright, waiting for the doors open and for her new life to begin. If this was destiny, like Vega had explained it to her, she did not expect for her to be so nervous.

  
After what seemed like hours, but were actually a few minutes, the doors opened. Her brother’s hand reached in, and she grabbed it tightly. His warm hand anchored her as she climbed down, grabbing the layers of her dress. A cough from Apollo, made her look up at the lot of them. She was startled to see so many people gathered to meet her, but courtesy settled smoothly in place of shock, and she smiled naturally at everyone. They had swarmed around her, ushering her inside the magnificent entrance. They drew closer to her, like a slow swarm of bees. She was introduced by her Uncle to every lord and lady that had gathered to welcome her. King Joffrey and Queen Cersei, however were absent. But the King’s younger brother was present, a child of 11, who was fascinated by her tall brothers, but too scared to talk to them, Andromeda noted. No one made an impression on her particularly, she hardly remembered the names of anyone, the babbling of the people around her made her feel light headed. She felt as if she was still on the carriage, the sun was too harsh on her head and a cold sweat was trickling down her back. But she stood, anchored on the arm of Apollo, nodding vaguely at the voices.

  
She peered back and saw Archer and Aster surrounded by more men. They too seemed to be glazing over the names of the lords and ladies who were trying so hard to gain their favour. Realizing how tired they all were, Uncle Hendrix led them all inside. She was offered some water by a servant, and she grabbed it, thanking her profusely, and the servant just gasped and bowed in return to her gratitude and retreated in the dark. As she took a long swig, she realized that it was a full-bodied wine. She was finally in King's Landing.

  
As Andromeda fell back on the bed in her new quarters, she couldn't help but smile. A sigh of relief left her lips as she finally felt herself relax. The bed was soft and the covers warm and she had taken off the tight dress. She was comfortable. And she soon fell asleep. After what seemed like a minute however, her maids woke her up and she saw 3 faces and a cat's body above her. She pushed Onyx away and shooed her maids away. As she slowly got up, she bid the maids speak and they spoke about a dinner that was to be held in their honor. It was to commence in 2 hours and she had to get ready for it. “That’s great! Wake me up in an hour then!” she said, falling back on her pillows, but her maids pulled her up again. According to them, 2 hours was too less a time to get her ready as per the standards of King’s Landing and she was desperately late. The maids looked worried and the cat looked sleepy. She begrudgingly allowed herself to be pulled out of the warm bed and walked towards the mirror. The maids swiftly followed her with a jug and plates. She drank a goblet full of cool water and ate a bite of a pie as the maids stripped her and ushered her to the bath. Inside the tub she closed her eyes once more as the maids detangled her long hair. The water was not too hot, just right as she began to fall asleep again. A tug of her hair woke her up again and she began to clean her body.

  
An hour later, she was dressed and her hair was tied in the fashion of the South by a previous maid of Princess Myrcella. She wore a gown of deep red laid with purple gems, the colors of her house. It flowed down to the ground and was cinched at her waist. The sleeves were loose, as was the fashion of the South and they flowed to her knees.

  
Andromeda met her brother Archer and Apollo outside her quarters. They too were dressed in Panthyrosi colors of plum red and violet. Even though they were triplets, they looked really distinct of each other, as Andromeda looked from one to another. Apollo was taller whereas Archer had a kinder face and Aster was the goofiest. Apollo was the natural leader amongst them, Archer was, as his name suggested, the best fighter and Aster was the most intelligent. Naturally, they were the pride of Panthyraal and the Lord of Panthyraal. “The most handsome knights”, they said. His other elder brother Orion was a close second. He was quite older than the other siblings and so he was closer to Father than to the triplets and Andromeda. Orion’s mother had died when he was a teenager. Their father had remarried and Andromeda was born. Two years later, Andromeda’s mother died giving birth to the triplets. Andromeda, being only 2 years older than the triplets grew up with them. They were as tight as thieves, and fought just as much. Andromeda remembered not talking to either of them for weeks on end, and then being consoled by them over a plate of cocoa cakes at sunset.

  
Apollo and Archer stood outside ready to escort her to the Dining Hall. Together as the three siblings walked down, the crowds turned to look at them. They gasped and their eyes twinkled as they saw the three siblings walk down. Apollo carried his father's army and Archer carried Panthyraal's strength and Andromeda carried her kingdom's beauty. Together they embodied the common saying of Panthyraal, “blessed with beauty and rage”. They fulfilled the motto of their house, "We rule, we conquer", as they walked right through the crowd and everyone’s eyes turned to gawk at them. They took the seats at the high table with the King and his newly Betrothed. Andromeda had wistfully heard about how only a few days ago, in front of the entire court, King Joffrey had proposed to Lady Margery of House Tyrel in the ceremony of “Naming the Hand”. She was also told how the King had coined his own grandfather as the “Savior of the City” for saving the capital in the Battle of the Blackwater Bay.

  
Andromeda was introduced to King Joffrey. He seemed like a teenager to her. Barely taller than her and just as slender, he bowed a flourished bow and when he took her hand in his and kissed it, she felt him linger for a second more than was appropriate. He had a sweet smile but looked vaguely dangerous. She remembered the words of Baratheon, “ours is the fury”, and shuddered a bit under his touch. “My lady, it is a pleasure to have met you. Your family’s help in the coming wars will not go unnoticed by the King.” “So he just addressed himself in third person”, thought Andromeda to herself as she gave an appropriate reply to him. Next to him stood his beautiful beau. Wearing a dress with courageous cutouts, she tittered to Andromeda and held her by both her hands. His wiry and arrogant disposition was balanced by Lady Margery’s sweet one. She nearly hugged Andromeda and could not stop smiling at her brothers. “My lady Andromeda, it is a relief to have finally met you. I have heard about your ethereal beauty and words have failed to truly capture it, my lady”, breathed Margery in an easy manner, as if she had rehearsed those lines a few times in front of a mirror. Andromeda gave an easy reply, something about her being the rose of the Tyrells, and Margery smiled her easy smile. She took the seat next to King Joffrey, and Apollo sat beside her, while Archer took the seat next to Lady Margery. Aster was sitting next to Prince Tommen already. He was joking softly with Prince Tommen, who kept glancing at Aster with revered eyes.

  
As she finally settled, she looked at the people below. They were all the important Lords and Ladies of the Land. A wild medley of colors and patterns and fashion. She sipped the goblet, sputtering a bit as she realized it was wine again, a fine thick wine. She was smiling softly to what Apollo and King Joffrey were discussing across her as her eyes fell on a lady. She was dressed in a green gown with sleeves like hers. She had a fierce face with prominent cheekbones. She was beautiful. She seemed important. Beside her stood a man. He was tall and lean. He stood a head taller than everyone around him. His back was to Andromeda as he looked outside the windows. The pretty lady seemed to be seething with anger or at the least irritation. The man with the turned back was wearing a long black doublet. He had the same blond hair, except his hair were finer and whiter. Andromeda couldn't see him, and yet she knew he was a man of importance. He stood like one. Even though the hall was packed, people took care not to bump into _them_. The hilt of his sword on his sword belt confirmed her assumption, for Andromeda had not seen a bigger ruby in her life than the one inlaid on the golden hilt. And suddenly the man turned, and looked straight at Andromeda, as if he had heard her thoughts. Andromeda couldn’t keep up with his intense gaze, and she dropped her eyes. But still, she could feel his eyes burning a hole in her. Slowly, trying to appear nonchalant, she brought the goblet to her lips and looked at the magnificent man again and found that his eyes had not moved. His face was a sharp one with a tall nose, thin lips and large eyes like that of a cat. He had the same cheekbones of the lady. His jaw was lined with a neat blond beard that in no way softened his features. He looked at her and she felt her heart dropping to her stomach. His gaze was relentless, his face disinterested and mildly irritated. He was a lean man with broad shoulders and his flat stomach hinted that he was a knight. He looked mature to her but in no ways did his body show the wear of old age. His eyes pierced right through her, but Andromeda did not back down either. They continued this battle of their eyes for a few moments, until the clang of a servant dropping a tray on the floor distracted her. Knowing he had won, he turned to look at the fierce woman in front of her, and continued the conversation.

  
And then another man joined the couple. He had the same blond hair of the woman and the same body structure of the man. They were all related, it dawned on Andromeda. He was young and had a bright smile though his eyes seemed as cold as that of the man. They stood there, a handsome group and Andromeda couldn't help but imagine them as a pride of lions. And suddenly the young man looked at her too. His eyes sparkled and wandered down her body. She felt sweat trickling down her back as she composed herself and allowed herself to smile. A small smile. A smile of decency. His eyes so different yet so similar to that of the lady. And then the young man smiled at her. It was a formal smile. A smile of decency. And yet she felt her stomach tighten in knots. She felt flustered. She looked around to see if everyone could hear her heart thumping. No one caught her eye. Her brother Apollo was looking at her though. He whispered softly, "that is Jaime Lannister, sister. He is the youngest knight of the Kingsguard". In Apollo's voice she heard a hint of admiration and respect for the man. He continued, "And that is his father the Hand of the king." So that is where she knew him, Andromeda wondered. She had heard tales of the Lord of Casterly Rock. He was the richest man of Westeros and certainly looked every part of that. "And that must be Queen Cersei,” Andromeda said softly, connecting the dots. Apollo agreed and resumed his conversation with the King.

  
Andromeda couldn't stop looking at this family. The Lannisters. The Lions of the West. The richest family of the West. Certainly, the most powerful. She did not catch the eye of Jaime again but she couldn't help but whimper to herself whenever Cersei's glare seethed past her.

  
The king softly touched his goblet with a knife and all the servers bowed deeply. Till then she hadn't even noticed the hundreds of servers standing along the walls holding silver trays. The mass separated to the sides and started sitting on the tables. The Queen Regent glided to the table and took her seat next to Archer. The Lord of Lannister along with other Lords of prominence took his seat next to Aster on the other side of the table. Only when all the people were seated on the table of the King, did the servers start serving. Andromeda couldn't help but gasp as platters of food were set on the table. It was then that she realized how hungry she was. She lifted her hand to take the piece of the closest dish to her when a server ran to her and bowed deeply, he then offered to take the dish and serve her. All the people on the table were doing accordingly. Andromeda felt a hot blush on her neck as she felt embarrassed. She tightened her core and decided that she would not let any more embarrassments happen to her. She was the Lady of Panthyraal after all, she would behave as such.

  
After 4 courses of food, Andromeda felt the cord-strings of her dress tighten around her. She now wanted nothing more than the warmth of her bed upstairs. Her shoulders ached under her dress. During the dinner, she conversed with the King and the Queen-to-be. Margery Tyrell seemed a sweet enough girl, though something about her was shifty, sensed Andromeda. She had a southern accent that went well with her sweet demeanor. She joked and laughed freely with Aster and treated Andromeda as a sister she had never met. Joffrey, on the other hand was cordial too, but below the cordiality Andromeda sensed the pride of being crowned a king so young. As her Father would remark, she thought to herself too, "too big a crown too soon." Throughout dinner, she noticed how the people noticed her. They smiled at her. Andromeda found herself smiling at them too. She saw kind faces all around her. Andromeda wondered to herself, she couldn't see any cruel faces as her father had described. Even Lady Cersei was laughing at the jests of Archer. Everyone seemed happy, content. King's Landing might not be the grim place she thought it would be after all.

  
As she was tucked in her warm bed, she remembered all the lords and ladies she was introduced to. As she was going to stay here for a long time, she will need to acquaint herself with everyone of any importance. The only name that resurfaced in her memory again and again was that of Jaime Lannister. In her memory he looked even happier, smiling and laughing. She remembered the few glances they shared throughout dinner. He sat down amongst the Lords in the foremost table. Nothing out of ordinary. His glances were that of accident, not that of deliberation. And yet, as Andromeda slept in her bed near the cracking fire in the den, she couldn't forget his face. His body. He was called the most Handsome knight of The West. And she couldn't help herself to imagine if he was thinking of her too. She hoped he would. A small part of her wanted him to think of _her_ with the same longing she was thinking of _him_.

  
Father had informed her that she was to marry in the West. And uncle Hendrix had hinted that it was to be either the younger brother of the King or someone from the Lannister or the Baratheon family. Andromeda wondered if she should marry Jaime Lannister. He was the eldest son of the Lannister family and he was unmarried. In terms of position, they were equals, maybe even deserving of each other. Andromeda knew she wasn't hard on the eyes. She had seen all her life how men looked at her and looked after her as she walked away. She was a confident woman. Her father was the Warden of the East. If anything, her position was superior to the son of the Warden of the West. She found herself defending her position to Jaime, as if she were to present her proposal tomorrow morning itself.  
As she drifted to sleep her last thoughts were of her father, Orion and the summers in Tygrysaar.


	2. New Friendships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have a Jaime POV as he decides to take their armies and charge at Robb in the Riverlands. We also see the budding of a new friendship between a tiger and a lion!   
> Please take note of the canon divergence-   
> 1\. Jaime had stayed with Cersei after the attack on Lord Eddard. He had stayed during the entirety of the War of Blackwater Bay, and now he will go to war with the combined army of Lannisters and Panthyraals  
> 2\. Jaime and Cersei are 33, Tyrion is 27 and Tywin is 52 years of age.   
> 3\. Andromeda is 21, and her brothers are 19.

“You can’t be serious,” shouted Cersei. Jaime did not turn to answer her. He was leaning at the window overlooking the training barracks.

“Answer me, Jaime.”

Even without turning to look at her, Jaime knew what face she must be making. He always knew what face she would be making. She must be thinking that her anger is controlled, and her face is neutral, but Jaime knew that the vein on her forehead must be prominent, her mouth barely a line, her eyes staring at him. He turned slowly and when he found that he was right, a chuckle escaped his throat. “You know you’re hurting me. You’re doing it _just_ to hurt me,” whispered Cersei, her face about to crack with uncontrolled wrath. Jaime turned to face the window again. He could not reason with his sister. He chose to focus on the bright morning sun reflecting on the blue water.

“I am doing this to save our family’s ass in this war. The Stark pup has gathered the army of the Riverlands, and if we don’t attack soon, he will march onto Harrenhaal. And from there, it is all lost. We _need_ to attack now.” He got frustrated with each sentence. He _knew_ that explaining this to Cersei was useless.

“So, you plan to leave me alone here.” Cersei was crying now, Jaime sensed from the crack in her voice. He couldn’t face her tears, not today. Not when once before he was stopped by those same tears from joining his father when he had attacked Lord Eddard. He knew he was getting manipulated; this is precisely what she did back then, she made him stay with her when their Father needed them at the borders of Riverlands. He had stayed, against the better part of his judgement, with Cersei because she had cried for him just like she was attempting to do. To think that this is just a ruse, Jaime felt anger rising in his spine.

“Please stop crying, you know that I am not going to stay here. I need to go ride out with our army.” He was getting impatient with her. Still, she did not relent. She would _never_ relent. He loved that about her, and despised it too. 

“Send someone _else_. Stay here with me, with _our_ children.” It was like watching a monkey play the same tricks. He knew what she was getting at. She was trying to _guilt_ him into staying. He was getting angry. He was getting angry at the fact that she thought he was simple enough to believe her simpering lies.

“Cersei, you do not _understand_ nor do I expect you to understand _._ I stayed with you during the Battle of Blackwater, became your son’s glorified guard, and did nothing while our Father was out there being battered in battle. I had to wait like some cripple waiting for the Tyrells and Panthyraals to come save us. I will _not_ do that again. My place is in the battlefield, and not in the safekeep with women.” He was screaming at her. He could not stop himself. He knew she would hate him. But better for her to hate him than the entire Westeros thinking he is an invalid who needs the likes of Ser Loras and Ser Pathyraals to save his family’s legacy.

He was thankful for her silence. Silence, finally. He turned to look at the barracks again. The window reminded him of a similar window in Winterfell… _The things he did for love._ It all came to haunt him at night; the things he did for _her._ They gnawed at him, chipped away at all the confidence he had in him, all his pride. But he would not do those things again. The acts that came to haunt him at night had only made him sure of one thing; that he would _never_ repeat them. It was only because of that he had gone to Father asking him for the permission to lead the combined armies of the Lannisters and Panthyraals to Harrenhaal. And from thence to the borders of Riverlands. He _will_ fulfil his duty. And his duty was to his House, first and foremost. This was his act of penance, and he will fulfil it. 

He forced his mind to focus at the knights training now. He was just about to leave to train, when Cersei had barged in, demanding a confrontation. His eyes glanced at the pairs of fighters. He recognized each and every one of them, not by their faces but by their movements. Here, in the far left, his cousin Lancel was fighting Ser Loras. Here, in the center, Ser Gerion, the Lord Commander of Lannister forces was fighting a Panthyrosi triplet. And by the looks of it, the Panthyrosi knight would win in a few short moves. Jaime grunted to himself. _They are strong, those tall knights, and surprisingly agile too, considering their size._ For the first time, in a very long time, Jaime had been defeated by someone. And those pangs of insecurity in his talent, which he had not felt ever since he was a child, had resurfaced in him. It was because of that, that he had started training for 4 hours every day. He would not let a foreigner knight make _him_ feel inadequate about his talent. It was all he had. His pride came from his sword. He would not let anyone best him at it, even though he was more than decade younger than him. _If not my sword, what else do I have? Honor?_ Jaime laughed at himself. He knew he had no honor. But this, his sword, was his identity. It was why people respected him.

He then spotted something strange. In the edge of the barracks, something shone brightly. It was a lady’s dress. It was violet in color and it caught the sunlight and reflected it marvelously. He tried to recognize her. _Not Lady Margery, she never dons this much fabric. Not one of the lesser ladies of the Court, they would not have a cluster of guards behind them as she had._ He looked at the deep violet cloaks of the guards and recognized her. She was Lady Andromeda, no doubt there to watch her brothers train. He was suddenly made aware of the silence behind him. Turning to look at her face, he saw she had stopped crying, no doubt, finding it ineffective. _Storing it for some other time_. “I am going to train.” And with that Jaime Lannister picked his sword belt and gloves and left Cersei seething in her chair.

The sun had crept well over his head. He had been training with Ser Gerion, and then with Ser Apollo. Jaime found Ser Apollo to be a bright, young man. He smiled easily, and by the way he sauntered around the yard, he was confident in the way he looked. And he did not look bad either, none of them did. He had brown eyes and a sharp jaw. And long brown hair. Apollo’s hair was the longest of his brothers, which he tied at the nape of his neck in a bun. In his attacks, he was fierce and, in his defense, he was relentless. If he hadn’t been so bloody overconfident, he would have reminded Jaime of when he was younger.

They had fought for hours, not letting each other go. A small crowd had gathered around them by the end of it. The crowd booed and cheered, louder for Jaime, because they were mostly westernmen. Apollo’s siblings had gathered too, and Jaime could distinctly hear a young woman’s voice cheering for him. He glanced around the crowd, when he could, to look at her.

She was hopping excitedly, and for more than once, he could hear her cheer when he lost a point. His eyes kept glancing at her between breaks. He was merely curious, atleast that’s what he told himself. Surely, it wasn’t because she was _so_ _breathtaking_ in the sunlight. He caught her looking at him too, more than once, and she had smiled at him. But whether it was at him, or at her brother, he was not sure.

Apollo was relentless. He wore a dark purple tunic and no shield, which made him quicker in his movements. Finally, Jaime had won by a point. It was a weak one, but it was victory nonetheless. Ser Apollo bowed to him, before running to the edge of the yard. She stood in front of him, no doubt making a joke about him, judging by the howls of their brothers’ laughter. Apollo pretended to be angry, before he pulled Andromeda’s cheeks so hard, she was screaming at him to stop. He patted on her head, and grabbed her arm in his, leading her inside.

Jaime, who was still catching his breath, beckoned for his squire to fetch him water, and sat at the bench in the shade. For the first time, in a long time, he felt _happy_. He felt a sense of satisfaction as he stretched his sore arms over his head. After a few minutes, he left with Ser Gerion. The afternoon sun and the cool wind of the sea had put him in a cheery disposition. The conversation with Cersei had dissipated into the air. He had half a mind to visit Tyrion. Bidding farewell to Ser Gerion, he walked through the gardens overlooking the Bay to meet his brother.

But what he found was far more _interesting_. Expecting Tyrion to be lunching alone, Jaime had sauntered in the gardens. But he found Tyrion with pleasant company. He bowed his head and took her hand in his, before kissing her knuckles.

“Well, isn’t this is a pleasant surprise? It is a pleasure to finally meet you Lady Andromeda!” Jaime smiled warmly at her, though his eyes had a hint of mischief.

“Good afternoon to you too my Lord”, Andromeda returned the pleasantries. And then he sat down at their table. Jaime felt her eyes on his body, his tunic was still wet with sweat and clung to his chest. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, she shifted her gaze, now observing the seashore.

"And what is the reason for your benign presence today Jaime?" Tyrion sharply said. Jaime saw Andromeda suppress a smile.

"Oh, I just wanted to see the afternoon sky and hear the birds chirping in the trees", he said with such sincerity that without Tyrion's baudy laughter, Andromeda wouldn't have recognized his joke. She chuckled too. Jaime noticed her eyes then, how in the sun they were shining like molten copper. 

“And so, my lady, how does King's Landing fair you?” he asked.

“I think it fairs well, it is not as gruesome as I had hoped.” She replied sincerely.

“Oh, it very much is, maybe you just haven't seen it yet.” Tyrion laughed in agreement, picking up his goblet. 

“I think King’s Landing has a bad reputation, in all sincerity I found it quite enjoyable, with the birds and the clouds.” It was his turn to laugh now.

“And since when has this little party formed, and why have I not been invited to enjoy the sun?” Jaime feigned being offended. 

“Well, we became pals in the rookery. Lady Andromeda often visited the rookery and I practically lived there, for ravens are one of my few allies. So many wars are won with letters and pens.” Tyrion replied airily, making Lady Andromeda giggle.

“Let’s put it this way- I needed someone to show me the Keep, and who better to show me the Keep than the former Hand.” Andromeda patted Tyrion’s hand, and Jaime could see Tyrion blush. 

“Ah! Former hand- that position brings back such memories! Right Tyrion?” Jaime retorted, and Tyrion scowl at him.

They were interrupted by a servant, who served them little brown cakes on a platter. “Oh! Here they are. Lady Andromeda, a little bird told me that you loved cocoa cakes, and so, I had the kitchens prepare the most delicious cocoa cakes for you. Please take one and tell me how it is!” Tyrion extended the platter towards Andromeda. “Oh, you shouldn’t have Lord Tyrion! You’re too kind,” she said as she took one piece. She took a bite and Jaime observed how her eyes were closed and her cheeks had turned pink. “This is simply _delicious_ , Lord Tyrion. Please try one too. Lord Jaime? Try one piece,” She said, with her mouth full, extending the platter to the center of the little table. Jaime smiled at this girl who had stuffed her mouth with cake. She was now leaning behind on her chair, simply enjoying the piece of cake.

For a while, they sat in silence, enjoying the flavor. It was Jaime who broke it by asking, “they're really tasty Tyrion, from where did you find such a skilled cocoa maker? King’s Landing doesn't have many of them I suppose.”

“There is precisely one man, brother, who came from the East long ago who knows how to bake cocoa. I say it turned out rather well”, he said picking another triangle.

“Oh! It is the best my lord. Back at home we would bake these cakes ourselves and take it for a little picnic near the river.” Before Andromeda could hold her tongue, the words had spilled out of her. She had shared a part of her past with these men, and judging by her face, she did not like that.

But Tyrion simply smiled into the distance. His eyes were fixed on a ship getting smaller as it reached the horizon. 

“I remember”, he said, “that at Casterly Rock, Jaime and I would catch fish in the sea. We would roast them ourselves. Those were the days...” In his voice, Jaime could sense the wistfulness and nostalgia, that only happy memories of childhood could bring.

“I hadn't thought of those days for a long time my brother. Remember how, after my practices I would rescue you from the Maesters and we would go fishing. The size of the salmons we caught..” Jaime could hear himself confessing. Tyrion laughed too.

“- And remember the day we thought we caught a shark..” They both laughed loudly. Andromeda also joined them. 

“- And then we fetched father to come see the _beast_ we had caught. He was furious but he came. And he saw the big mass of a shipwreck we had pulled in. We were so scared he would push us into the ocean, but he smiled.” Jaime recalled. The day was as fresh as yesterday in his mind.

“Remember Jaime? He smiled that day.” Tyrion was smiling too. Though they did not have a lot of happy memories with their father, for he was a busy man, whatever little they did, they treasured it. 

“Yes, I remember, he didn't scold us. Quick little pats on our backs and off he went. Those were some good days.” Jaime let the sounds of waves crashing take him back to those days in Casterly Rock.

Andromeda felt like she had stepped briefly into the vista of their childhood. She sat in silence as these two brothers shared their stories to each other and to her. She laughed openly and truly at their mischiefs and remembered her own childhood.

They sat sharing stories for a long time then, some were happy and some were plain funny. Andromeda told them both how Aster had once been kicked by a donkey, and how Archer had burnt half his eyebrows in a firework gone wrong. Jaime felt him laugh, naturally, truly, and he could not remember the last time he did so. They sat there till the sun was nearly on the brink of the sea. The cakes were all eaten up and their hearts were full with reminiscences of their childhoods. At the end of the evening, Jaime saw Andromeda in a different light. She was not a stranger, she was a friend.

When her handmaid called on her to get ready for dinner, the three stood up. She thanked Jaime for a resplendent evening and he thanked her for bringing her childhood to him, even for a brief time. Their eyes locked then. She looked at him and saw the melting sun in his green eyes along with the mischief of his childhood. He looked at her and saw the cocoa cakes in her brown eyes that had brought him his childhood memories, and for a short time, Jaime couldn't _help_ but drown in the ocean of her eyes.

He realized that he had never truly seen her face, noticed her eyes, her thick black hair. Oh, such a novelty was her black hair that fell to her hips. Her sharp nose and the sharp bow of her lips. Andromeda was all the beauty they had described to him and much more. In the setting sun's light, her confident face looked soft and warm as her demeanor. As she walked away, he saw the tiger of her land leaping in her. She was a true Panthyraal. As was he a true Lannister. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think, now that Jaime is finally coming to terms with the manipulative nature of his twin, will he fall for someone else?   
> Please share your comments/ reviews/ remarks/ and suggestions!   
> Stay tuned for - "a Promise, a Vow and a Betrayal". it is going to be a long chapter!


	3. Promises made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Andromeda's friendship grows stronger. A promise is made by Jaime to Andromeda. But will he be able to fulfill that promise, or does destiny have something else in store for Andromeda? Read and find out ;)

Andromeda was sitting in the benches, her mind was wandering at a million little things while she watched Archer nock another arrow. The footsteps of a surefooted man brought her back to reality, and she turned her head to look at who was walking towards her. It was Jaime. He had taken off his gleaming golden armor. His white tunic was drenched with sweat and the fabric clung to his body. Andromeda inhaled sharply as she saw his chest and his stomach under his tunic. There was not a shred of fat on his young body. It was layered with taut muscles. His blond hair was wet too. He was smiling the half smile he did, the cocky smile that melted away the ladies of the Court. The smile that was mischievous and sincere at the same time. Andromeda blushed at him. Her neck and cheeks were getting really hot. _Great! He must think I am one of the flimsy women that fawn over him!_ She turned then and focused on Archer once more as he shot another arrow right through the small target. Truly, no one could surpass him in his archery. Andromeda cheered loudly for Archer, in turn Archer turned back at her and raised his bow at her. His face lit up at seeing his sister.

“Did your father name him ‘Archer’ because he was good with the bolt or is he good with the bolt because they named him Archer?” Jaime said in a straight voice, but Andromeda could see him smiling at Archer. Jaime looked to his opponent, a young Tyrell boy, probably one of the cousins of Ser Loras. 

Jaime sneered a bit as he sat down, close, and Andromeda felt the heat emanating from his body. “They named him Archer because the Gods came to my mother in her dream and told her to name the last son Archer.” Andromeda instinctively shifted a bit to the right, to give him more space to sit. She could _feel_ him mocking her. 

“Do you believe in the Gods then?”

“I suppose I do,” said Andromeda, musing to herself, “our gods have predicted dooms and births. They are not like the Seven Gods of Westeros.” 

“Did your mother dream too,” he said sliding close to her, “that she will have the most beautiful daughter and named you such an alluring name?” Andromeda felt goosebumps on the arm that was now brushing his own. 

“Andromeda was the goddess of men. She controlled men. My mother wanted her daughter to be able to control the men under her. She wanted her daughter to be strong enough to control men, so she named me Andromeda. The fact that she was so beautiful that she upset the Gods was a fact she knew of later.” Jaime laughed. Andromeda felt herself laugh too.

“I do like the naming pattern of your house, I must concede my lady”, Jaime whispered. _A secret only for her._

“And I do despise the naming pattern of the West, I must confess my Lord.” _A confession only for him._

“No way out of that my lady, as your kids will be named in the same way, the Western way.” Andromeda blushed a bit at this remark but she hid it well with her hair. Archer had marked another target, and Andromeda cheered on.

Jaime noticed the hair of the beautiful lady. It was true that she was beautiful, but even horses are called beautiful and that is not such a redeeming quality. No, Andromeda was not just beautiful, she was confident, intelligent, and worthy. Even before she had landed in the Capital, he had heard all about her. How she grew up with the triplets competing with them in every sport and skill. How she was just as skilled with a sword as any decent knight of the East, her hands told him that. Her hands were not dainty like the one of the ladies. Their fingers were long and they had small bruises on the left hand, presumably her sword hand. Her hair looked brown with a tint of copper in the sunlight, he remarked. She wore the colors of her house in her hair too. 

They sat in silence watching the fields and the few men practicing. The back of the castle was in front of them. They could hear the noise of the kitchens above and the washing stations too. 

Jaime broke the comfortable silence, “he is really good.” 

“Yes, he has been shooting arrows since he was a child. My Father says that he shot an arrow before he spoke a word, of course that is just an old lore.” 

They talked about the Capital, the Rock and Tygrysaar, her homeland. 

“Is it true that you have a pet tiger?” She could hear curiosity under his sarcasm. Andromeda was feeling brave too.

“Is it true that you have lions in your dungeons?”

“Yes, it is true. We use them for executions and bravado.” She laughed then, his face looked as if he was being very serious.

“Yes, it is true,” Andromeda admitted too. “Her name is Sekhmet. We found her in the jungles with a dead mother.” Jaime hummed in agreement. He sounded impressed.

Silence engulfed them again as they both sat in silence thinking about each other's beasts. 

“Can you ride Sekhmet?” The word sounded so foreign on his tongue. He stressed the ‘T’ and the ‘Kh’. She smiled to herself.

“Oh no, she is a very proud lady, she does not like to be touched.” 

“Then she must be a Lannister.” 

And they laughed. Talking to him was simple. As they sat on the benches, the sun had climbed up the horizon and it was presently getting hot. Jaime stood up when Archer came to her, all smiles. That is how Archer was- all smiles and jests after a win.

The three of them walked inside the gates. Jaime was surprisingly polite to her brother, she noticed. Archer too looked respectful towards the son of Lannister. 

And thus, their schedule was made.

Every day in the mornings after his practice, Jaime would sit with her. They would talk about anything and everything. Nothing really. Little quips and stories of no one in particular. She liked sitting with him. He was at his best after a win, which was always. They would walk to the gates and meet again in the afternoon with Tyrion. They would joke and laugh, and Andromeda felt like finally she had started to belong.

He liked talking to her. It was easy. All of it. There were no games, no ulterior motives to be uncovered. She was like a stream; you could see everything at the bottom of it. You could see where it was going. You could float a paper boat and flowers in the stream, and swim in the waters on a warm afternoon. It was comforting, her presence.

And gradually, they slipped into a closeness, from which they never recovered. She never realized the day she had started spending too much time with him. _But others did._ They saw a tigress falling for a brave lion. They saw a lion being enchanted by a tigress. They were the topic of the Court; amidst war theirs was a love that would anchor them. _Literally and figuratively._ Reports of Panthyraal army nearing the Crownlands had put everyone in a better mood.

The ladies of the Court noticed this too. When during dinners, he would ignore them and sit directly in front of her, she could see them gawking at her. _Wondering, no doubt, what did she have that they did not_. But the more they observed them for answers, the more they were left confused. He was getting close to her brothers too. They loved him. They could not stop talking about his strategies in war and in court. It was as if suddenly, everywhere she went, she could hear his name. She found herself explaining to everyone around her, that they were just friends. _Just friends. Simply friends. Nothing more than that. To her handmaids, her brothers, his brother._

_But friends don’t look at each other like that, whispered a shadow of hope in her mind._

“You’re staring at him again,” Tyrion sighed.

“I’m not,” Andromeda replied, her tone sharper than she had intended. She was on edge today after she had spent the entire morning fending off her brothers making fun about her and him. “I simply gazed over in a direction and he was there.” She turned her head to look at Tyrion. He was not convinced.

“Then why was that look on your face?” he was sipping wine. Andromeda was flustered.

“What? What _look_?”

“You look a certain way when you see him,” he informed. As if it was common knowledge. His plain tone was setting her on edge. He continued, “you look at him and it’s like you’re staring at stars.”

“- And?” she challenged him.

He looked down. “You love stars, my lady.”

-~oOo~-

It had been a week since Tyrion had made that revelation to her. Andromeda sat alone in the balcony facing the sea. The seagulls were flying around the harbor, and little boats were returning home. Tyrion had been sent to some task by his Lord father and Jaime too had work, she guessed.

She sat looking at the mountains beyond the castle, in the far distance. And the garden in front of her. The maids walking through the maze talking to each other. Occasionally she spotted a couple, walking softly with their arms entwined. She felt a smile creeping on her lips. The evening was peaceful. The wind was not too strong and the temperature was not too cold. She almost felt like she was in Tygrysaar. It felt very strange to sit alone in King's Landing. _One is always surrounded by people._ Andromeda was never left alone by her maids and her guards. She felt like a crowd when she walked into the dinner hall. Slipping away unnoticed was not an option for the crowd. She was always noticed. Her entry was always followed by a silence of reverence. More often than not, her brothers would follow her too. They were a clanging crowd of people walking around the castle. _It was for her safety they said, it was to keep an eye on her she knew._

As the days to her 21st namesday came closer, her Uncle’s subtle suggestions to settle down and marry became not so subtle. She was egged on by her brothers too, who would rank every knight between 1-10 on the scale of who could tolerate their elder sister. Uncle Hendrix did not say anything out loud but she had heard him trying to set her up with a ‘Dickon Tarly’. The name itself reduced her brothers into feats of laughter that the date of their meeting was never set. 

Andromeda breathed deeply the smell of the flowers in the garden. She could smell the lilies and other flowers indigenous to the Western kingdom. The sun was hanging low in the horizon teasing her with its last rays. And then she heard footsteps approaching her table.

_Which godforsaken devil wanted to annoy her now!_ She thought as she stood up face to face with Jaime. He had a strange look on his face. She had never seen this look on him. She offered him to share her table, a formality that he immediately ignored and sat down unceremoniously with a clunk of his sword hitting the floor. He took off his sword and kept it on the table, a habit which was not proper table decorum but Andromeda was not going to admonish him for it. This is how he was around her- and she liked him for it. She noticed the heavy sword set in front of her, gilded in gold and the hilt made of pure gold woven with white gold set with big rubies forming the eyes of a lion. 

Jaime did not say anything, nor did she. They sat in blissful silence. Each in their own world. Andromeda looked at a ship as it came closer. Its sails were bellowing in the wind. 

“You know my father is pestering me these days” he suddenly pierced the silence. She looked at him. He never talked like this. She said nothing, and he continued after a while. 

“He has been very persistent in his suggestions…” He trailed off. _So, he wanted her to ask._ She complied. Andromeda wanted to know what he was doing. This was the first time she had seen him showing the slightest sign of _vulnerability_.

“To do what?” She asked softly, not seeming too interested or else he might bottle up again. 

“To propose to you for a marriage.” He said it all at once. _There it is out now._ He exhaled loudly. 

It was nothing she did not already know of. Her uncle too had suggested the same idea to her a couple of times in the past fortnight. It seemed their families were eager to join with each other through a bond of marriage as theirs. The Tigers of the East and The Lions of the West were ready to form a union through their children. 

“So,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “is it something my lady would be interested in? Marrying an arrogant man as myself?” he added, to lighten the mood. She noticed that he was not looking at her, but at his hands. _Jaime Lannister was nervous._

Andromeda looked up at him, forcing him to meet her eyes. She smiled at him, a smile of reassurance. And smiled at her too, his usual half smile. _But beneath the smile of confidence was some fear. A fear of rejection or worse, getting laughed at._ It was then that she realised that Jaime Lannister, the greatest knight of the West, _cared for her opinion_. 

_Or else why would he approach her before?_ He could directly talk to her uncle, or even her brothers and send a raven to her Father in Tygrysaar. But he asked her opinion _first_ , so that if she would not agree, he would drop the matter. 

She liked this vulnerable side of him, and teased him, “why would I want to marry you?” 

“You would want to marry me because…” and his voice faltered away. 

Andromeda liked this power. _The Arrogant lion was in her clutches now._ “Yes?” She offered.

“Because my lady, I am the most appropriate candidate of your father's choice that will strengthen the ties of Panthyraal with the West,” he said, squaring his shoulders and sitting up straighter in his chair. 

“How romantic is that!” she feigned being impressed. 

“My lady, did you expect a love song written by the Blind Bard? Marriage between Houses such as ours is hardly ever about love. It is an alliance, forged out of need.” These were statements of facts, hard truths. But they hurt her just the same. _He does not love you, he is doing it only because his family wants him to._

“And why would you marry me? I am way younger than you, and I am a _foreigner_ , hard to trust, harder to control.” She stressed on the word foreigner. _She knew they called her a foreigner behind her back._ Panthyraals had been remote ever since Aegon’s Conquest. They married within their families in the South and the East, and had never married into the Lannisters.

“Because your family is the strongest family in the East and if we are to win the war, your support is _essential_. And you are an intelligent, young woman that will bear me heirs that will rule in my stead one day.” He said confidently. His logic was sound but she did not look at him. The ship had crept closer. She could see the sigil of Martells on the sails. _So, it is good silk and good wine, for people who deserve neither._ The fact that it was her father’s army, and her young age that made him want to marry her, did not shock her, for she knew the concept of a marriage for convenience intimately. She knew that she would never marry for _love._ She had born in the wrong kind of family for it. And she also knew that it was not Jaime’s fault for not confessing his love for her, for they had barely known each other for two moons.

“Andromeda?” he called her by her name. A liberty that he had taken the day they had gone down to the bay and walked in the sand. She remembered the day vividly. She had started walking towards the water, and Tyrion and Jaime were shouting for her to come back since the water had been inhabitable ever since the War of Blackwater bay. Traces of wildfire had still been found in it. But she had not listened. It was then that he had shouted her name, and she had finally stopped, only one step away from the foaming water.

“Yes?” she looked at him. Her face was devoid of any emotion. Jaime’s eyes for searching hers for an answer that she had not heard the question to. He repeated, this time mincing each word, “Lady Andromeda of Panthyraal, daughter of Lord Alizaar, would you do the honor of agreeing to marry me, Ser Jaime of Lannister, son of Lord Tywin, after I come back from war?”

“Wait, what?” she was confused. “After you come back from war? Jaime, we never know when you’ll come back.” Her voice was tittering on the verge of dissolving in tears. She stopped herself somehow. She hated how her voice sounded weak. 

“That is precisely why, my lady,” said Jaime solemnly. “I am to leave in three days. It is not enough time to get married, and I do not want to leave a newly wedded bride behind me. I don’t know when I’ll be back, whether I will be back or not, and I cannot leave you to live alone for the _rest of your life in my memory_.” Andromeda could sense that he had put a lot of thought in this. His words came from a place of sadness, but reality nonetheless. Men often die in wars, that is a truth. They also leave behind widows, who would then live alone. “So, my lady,” he brought a smile to his face which lightened his entire visage, “I ask of you but one thing. Allow me to promise, that when I will be back, _if I_ will be back, I will marry you.”

He looked at her directly then, and in his seafoam green eyes, Andromeda saw nothing but honesty. _His eyes were the depths of the ocean in which she saw herself drown, willingly, forever drowning._ Its so ironic how she looked at him, hoping for him to be looking back at her, but when their eyes met, she looked away, because she did not want him to see _how much she needed_ _him._

She heard herself reply “yes” from somewhere deep inside her, and saw him take her hand in his and gently kiss it. He stood up, and without a preamble, left. She did not say anything either. Silence suited them both then.

The winds were the same, they kissed her face. The sun had finally slept under the mountains. The deep orange rays were taunting her goodbye. The air was cooling off. The bees in the air were humming and the first chirps of the crickets could be heard. The waves were crashing on the shore, incessant. The hustle from the kitchen was heard as they must've started preparing for dinner. It all overwhelmed her.

Andromeda sat in her chair. But the world around her kept revolving. _The promise._ It had been that simple. She had been attached to this man now. A man whom she would marry. And live with for the rest of her life. Suddenly these thoughts made her feel uneasy. She will positively never return to Tygrysaar. Never stay in her old chambers facing the river bank. She will never wake up alone, and sleep alone. Her life was now stitched with another man. _Forever._ _Forever. A solemn promise._ She turned to look around her. There was no one around her, and yet she felt as if someone had rattled the soul inside her. She realized she had been shivering. It was getting dark; the sky was purple and red. The colors of her House. She stood up to go back to her chambers. She needed to lie down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know, I promised a long ass chapter, but then the story that is forming inside my head requires this to be divided into two chapters. But worry not, I will post the next chapter by tonight! Please Please leave comments and reviews! It means the world to me to hear from my readers. Share your expectations and your views!! Forever love- AngelasAshes.


	4. A Vow Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises are the sweetest lies. Jaime's promise is broken and Andromeda's heart is shattered. Is this the end of a love that never was? Andromeda, so weak- so unspeakably lonely, is a tigress. She is a woman with ancient anger in her veins, and the cruelty of a goddess in her heart. Do not stand in her way. She will burn down your kingdom, and herself with it, if it meant your ruin.

It had been a day since the day Jaime had promised her. Promised her to propose to her after he came back, _if_ he came back. _A lot of contingencies for that promise to turn into reality._ It was as if nothing had changed around her. She had not told her brothers or her uncle about this. It seemed too small to share with anyone, too silly. The truth however, was that, _it was too personal._ It was a promise, a whisper of words that meant nothing to anyone else, but everything to her. It was the thing that had anchored her to her dream.

It was a late in the evening. Lord Tyrion and Jaime were supposed to meet her, but they had both failed to turn up. She had patiently waited for 3 hours, convincing herself that something had happened, something _must_ have happened. Then finally, it was all too much for her. She hated waiting for anyone. It was truly one of her worst qualities. That, and reaching conclusions. Spiraling and spewing in her chair, she reached the worst possible conclusions on what could have gone wrong. _They might have been attacked._ _Attacked by Stannis, NO, attacked by the Young Stark. Killed and murdered. They might have choked on their food. They might have been poisoned by someone._ She had driven herself into a corner; she had to go check up on them now.

She walked with big strides towards his chambers. She was angry, and all the guards could see it in her walk. She knew where his chambers were- right below the King’s chambers as he was a member of the Kingsguard.

The corridor leading up to his chamber was long, and as she walked closer to his door, an ominous feeling crept in her veins. It was inexplicable, like a deep feeling of paranoia in her heart. She knew not why she felt that way. She chalked it up to being nervous. _Simply nervous_. She made up her mind anyways, she was going to go through it. _She was a tigress and she wont back down now just because she was nervous entering Jaime’s chambers._ Her strides got bigger and bigger now, her dress bellowing after her. When he reached his doors, the absence of guards did not tip her off. _Maybe the members of the Kingsguard did not have any guards._ As if nothing was wrong, she opened the doors forcefully. She climbed the two steps down in the huge hall. His armor was clumsily lying on the table, and a huge display of swords decked the walls. A small rack in the wall showed thick books, gathering dust. The table faced the huge windows, which were left open. The white curtains bellowed in the wind, as if impatient. Two wine glasses and a platter of pears was on the table, along with an open book. Andromeda gingerly walked towards the table, and read the page of the book. It was an armory record, a boring one too, which is why Jaime must have left it open. A quill rested between the pages; a sentence left unfinished. She picked up the quill in her hand and set it aside, lest it bleed on the book. She then observed his handwriting. It was slant and it looked hurried, as if Jaime was trying to get it over with. She let her finger run over the unfinished sentence absentmindedly.

As she straightened the doublet on the chair, she heard a sound. She stood in her tracks. It was coming from the inner chambers. _Someone is inside with Jaime._ _Maybe it is Tyrion._ Her mind ran at the possibilities. She could prank them so good. She felt a smile coming on her lips, a devious one. She folded the jacket and set it on the chair, softly, and pushed the chair inside, lifting it so it does not make a sound. She then walked slowly to the chambers; her senses told her that she shouldn't make a noise. Still, in a dignified way, not appearing to be sneaking around, _with the dignity of a lady_ , she walked towards the doors.

The sounds seemed to become louder. It was laughter, muffled with something else. She pressed her ear to the door, but to no avail. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands grabbed the ornate handle and opened the doors.

The doors did not make any sounds, but she _wished_ they had, because in front of her was a sight that could kill any woman. 

As the entire world came crashing down her, she gripped the handle for support, and took a step backwards, but her foot slipped on a cloth and she fell down. She screamed involuntarily, and they saw her. _They saw her._ It was not sure who looked more horrified, she or them.

She held the door for support and stood up. _Somehow, she forced herself to stand up._ She looked at them once more, enough to burn her soul, enough to decimate her and bury her under the ground, and started running. Her legs took her out of the room, outside the hall, the long corridor. She did not care who was looking at her, who she crossed, for she just wanted to escape. _But there was no escape, because the images of her, of them, were branded in her mind._ She felt like she was an escaped convict. She held her skirts in her hand and ran as fast as she could. _Ran for her life._ She heard cries of her name behind her, but she did not stop. She was stopped by guards and maids with their surprised looks and she did not stop. _She will not stop for anyone._ Archer met her in her way and tried to hold her but she did not stop. She ran and ran till she reached the gardens. She ran through the gardens, down the steps to the sea. Tyrion had showed her this cove, where the steps led you right to the sea. She stopped then. Her hands on the parapet and her head down, breathing loudly. _But no air came to her._ Her stomach was roiling as she looked down at the sea. The sea was at the steps of this place and she thought of walking down into the sea. But she did not. _She would not._ _She was a tigress, and this place will not break her._ Instead she kept looking at the lapping of the waves below her feet. It took a while, but tears streamed down her face as her mind flashed images of what she had seen. Her chest was burning, and her body felt as it was made of lead. She had cried for the first time in King's Landing. Hot tears streamed down her eyes and fell into the sea. She cried until her eyes were empty. She cried until the sun had set. She cried until her heart felt empty and the sea felt full of her salty tears.

That night, even the stars had stopped breathing. She looked up at them, shy twinkling in the black sky, and she knew she had to go back. Her shoulders were aching and her head was heavy. But her heart, it was empty. Totally drained. She mechanically brought a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped her face. She took deep breaths and steadied herself. _We rule, we conquer. We rule, we conquer. It was the beat of her heart._ As she was adjusting her dress, the realization of the events hit her fully. She had slipped on a muslin small cloth. It belonged to a lady. The same lady, who was in Jamie's bed, gasping in pleasure. Pleasure or pain, Andromeda did not know, yet their laughs in between told her what it was. She must've stood there for 2 seconds, but to her it had felt a lifetime. She saw his naked body on her naked body. She saw him stroking _inside_ of her. She saw him pulling her in his arms and kissing her face. She saw him holding her breasts with the lust of a hungry man. She saw it all, but when she saw her face, she had broken down. It was true that Cersei never smiled. But she saw her smiling then, laughing even. She saw her full lips parting for her twin brother. She saw her legs wrapped around his waist and she saw her gasp as he moved inside of her. She saw more of Cersei than she had in her last 6 months in the Capital. And she saw the last of Jaime she would ever want to see. 

The secrets they had shared, the jokes too, now mocked at her in the face. They taunted her. They hurled insults at her. The promise he had made yesterday, it stabbed her in her chest. He loved another. _He would never love another._ The realizations all hit her like the waves of a storm, she was a small boat then. And the angry waves lashed at her, tumbling her upside down, until she was underwater.

_She felt as if she was drowning, forever drowning._

At that moment, Andromeda wished nothing but to sink in the sea and rise to the sky. It was as if she was tied to the earth as a prisoner and tortured relentlessly. She wanted to break free and fly away, away from the realization that he would never be hers.

Someone would be worried. They were not accustomed to having Andromeda hide away for 4 hours at a time, that too without her guards. She breathed in the salty air one last time, her heart drumming but one beat, _we rule, we conquer, we rule, we conquer, we rule_ ... until she felt strong enough to return and face others. 

Andromeda was walking up the thickly preached alley when she realized that she was not alone. Someone was sitting on the steps. The person had his head on his lap. As she walked closer, somehow, she was not scared anymore, _what could be worse than what she had already undergone today._ She stepped closer and realized that he was a man. The clouds shifted and moonlight shone on his hair and she knew who he was. _She was not ready to face him._ Not now. _Not ever._ She decided to walk past him swiftly, but as she passed him on the narrow alley, he held her by her ankle. He had caught her ankle and his single arm was strong enough to hold her in place. He looked up at her and she found that the Lion maybe strong but the Tigress was _stronger_. She pushed his hand away and ran. She slowed down as the gardens ended and people started surrounding her just like the questions in her mind. _Had he been sitting here all the time? Had he heard her cry?_ She had cried so loud she was surprised Lord Tywin Lannister hadn't heard her from the tower of the Hand. _This displeased her immensely._ Andromeda never liked to appear weak in front of anyone. Even when she lost miserably to her brothers, she would keep her face high and strong. Only when she was inside the covers of her bed would she let any tears trickle. Only her pillow was privy to her tears and frustrations. She would never show her weakness to anyone else. 

_How had he found her? Why didn't he approach her and take her inside? Or even tried to talk to her?_ She stopped thinking, as she met an anxious Apollo walking to somewhere. She let herself be held by him then as he angrily asked, “where have you been Andromeda? Do you know for how long have we been looking for you.” He must’ve really been angry for him to call her by her name, and not ‘Andy’. But as she looked up at him, he saw her tear streaked face and realized that something was wrong. His tone became softer then, “are you safe? Has anything happened to you?” He looked so much like father then, with his eyes wide with worry. “Yes,” she tried to smile for him but a weak tremor of her lips is all she could muster. “Where were you Andromeda?” “I was near the sea in the hidden alcove, it was a place Lord Tyrion had shown me. It gave me peace. I guess I just lost track of time.” She pretended to smile, but her entire face hurt. 

“You go inside right now. I will explain to uncle. We knew you were in the castle but we couldn't find you anywhere. We thought you had escaped to the stars.” And he tried to make her laugh. She smiled weakly again. The brother she knew had resurfaced. His effort was heartwarming, but at that moment, all she wanted was to sleep and to die. “Not yet, brother, not yet.” And with that, she walked towards her chambers. Jaime came running behind her and stood behind her. Andromeda could feel the knots in her back attempting to break her skeleton. “There is nothing to worry Ser Apollo, Lady Andromeda was with me in the alcove.” He was slightly out of breath, but he sounded convincing enough. Apollo smiled, suspiciously at first from Andy to Jaime, and then let it go. “Alright, I'll explain it to uncle. A lover's escape would be taken lightly, I hope!” And Jaime laughed with him. It was hollowed.

Andromeda had no patience for this ruse. She started walking towards her chamber and when she heard him follow, she whispered curtly, “do not follow me right now.” She did not want anyone to know that they had any troubles and did not want to create any gossip. She smiled at him after that so that the group of hand maids walking by could see that. But her eyes were as emotionless as that of a wight. He let her go. She walked away and disappeared inside her chambers, and Jaime knew that she had gone forever. 

~-oOo-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys please, please leave your comments! I would love to read your reviews! Who do you feel worse for? Our Jaime, a broken hero, or Andromeda?  
> In the next chapter, Jaime leaves for war. And we will have the first Tywin POV soon! :)


	5. Of death and war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were both created in chaos, they were both born to destroy. He was like death, and she was like war. And when they collided, worlds ended.   
> Jaime leaves for war. What is expected to be an easy victory, might not turn out to be that easy. A million things can go wrong. Andromeda prays for his life and her peace. Or for his death and her peace.

The air in the halls was as thick as tar, it suffocated him. The music was too loud, it overwhelmed him. He gripped the goblet in his hand tightly, as if he was holding his heart in his hand. It would have been better, if he would’ve been holding his heart in his hand, he thought grimly, for he would’ve been able to calm it down then. And more importantly, he would’ve been dead. In his mind was a loud deafening sound. A restless sound. He could not focus on anything, not look at anything. He got up from his seat at the high table. A feast that was held in his honor, and he could not tolerate it. He could not tolerate the festivities in the face of war. _These damned people celebrating the death of their soldiers._ He walked out to the balconies, past the thick curtains and breathed deeply, the air of the sea. The air of the sea cleansed him. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him. _Her small form against the sea, heaving and crying, pierced his mind._ He forced them open.

Why did he let her seduce him? How had it happened? The unraveling was so sudden, he had no control over him. She was like the flame, and he, like a block of ice had melted in her fiery palm. Why did he, for the first time, feel a gnawing pain in his heart? _Was this guilt?_ A feeling so foreign, it consumed him whole. This was the first time that he had felt something like this, even though this was not the first time that they had been discovered. Pushing the Stark child from the tower had not given him an ounce of guilt, and yet being found by her had made his heart wrench. He had done worse things. He was not a good man. He was not an honorable man. He felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. And then he heard her cries again. The waves of the sea echoed her cries to him. Her cries were like the growls of a wounded tiger. He only had enough strength to run after her. There was no power in him to approach her. Not when she was like that. She was a tigress. She would not be approached by anyone. Every cry had sent a sharp shard of glass in his chest so when she finally stopped, he had bled on the stairs and died.

Once inside, he sat alone. He was surrounded by Ser Gerion on one side and Ser Lancel on another, and yet the chair opposite him made him feel empty inside. So, when she walked down the stairs, he nearly dropped his cup. His breath was hitched in his throat.She was wearing a dress of the darkest green velvet. _As dark as his sins._ But on her body, it shone like molten jade. A cloud of sighs followed her as she walked over to his table and sat down opposite him. She smiled politely and laughed at Joffrey's jokes and Joffrey could not stop blushing. She seemed… _happy_. She seemed _normal_. What she was, was _strong_. _Andromeda came back, ever resilient._ A woman who won't let anything break her face at court. She sat beside Archer and Margery and to all who didn't know how she had cried her soul out a few hours ago, she seemed just her own self.

Jaime could not eat a single morsel then. The look on her face, her pride, mixed with defiance and a rich sense of royalty, hid everything that was going on inside her. A storm was locked inside her. But to anyone who looked at her, would see nothing but the face she presented at Court. This was Andromeda of Panthyraal, in her truest sense. _Blessed with beauty and rage._ She was honorable. More honorable than him, the kingslayer, the sister fucker.

After the dinner, the party moved towards the gardens for merriment. Andromeda guarded herself with her three brothers around her at all times, lest any Lannister approach her. Her dress shone softly in the lights of the candles. It was as if she wore _molten fire_. She sat on King Joffrey's table, with Lady Margery. King Joffrey himself could be seen rather impressed with Andromeda and could not keep himself from laughing at her quips. It was a cool summer evening. The sea was lapping at the shore and the crashes of the sea were getting louder at every hour. The rhythmic crashing of the sea brought a peaceful lull to the minds of everyone who was anxious about the war. _A pleasant distraction._ The cool air soothed Jaime's face, and yet his soul was on fire. He was almost angry. _Was it Andromeda that he was angry at? Or was it himself?_ He did not know. His emotions were a flurry and he didn't know what to feel anymore. Watching Andromeda laugh and smile and seem truly content left Jaime feeling all the more desperate for forgiveness. What forgiveness should he ask for? Forgiveness of a broken promise? Forgiveness of a sin? Forgiveness of a death? 

~-oOo-~

Their final night was upon them. Jaime Lannister was leading the charge against Croakfish of Riverlands. An easy victory, they said. But what did they know of war. Jaime knew war. He was a product of war. He knew the stench of war, the smell of slaughter. The smell of blood, mingled with dirt.

He was to lead ten thousand Lannister men and a thousand Panthyraal men. A million Panthyraal men would flank them in a week. With the ten thousand men, Jaime would hold the borders of the Riverlands, and when their might will be full, they will attack at Riverrun, where he had gathered his army for his Grandfather’s funeral.

The Great Hall was overflowing with couples and families saying their goodbyes. As Andromeda stood in front of Jaime, he was painfully aware that this was the first time after that day, that she had even appeared in front of him. He had half hoped that she would not come even today, but she had promised to perform the Victory Rites for his army, and even if Jaime had broken his promise, _a Panthyraal never broke their promise_. They stood in front of each other surrounded by their families, all agog for what was to follow. The ceremony was about to start.

For every war, the Commander was presented with a new sword, which was to be blessed and named by a woman. Jaime presented his sword to Andromeda and noticed that Cersei stood right behind her, as if to take her right. She held the heavy sword in her open arms. She looked at the sharp blade, and thought of the number of heads that will be slayed by it. She was no stranger to war, and yet, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the wives of the men to die, the daughters and sisters, the lovers. S _o many innocent families slaughtered by a single blade._ So many deaths were written on the edge of the sword. The sword was decorated in Lannister colors. The hilt was pure gold and chased in the shape of lions. In the place of the eye was set a large ruby. The gem sparkled brilliantly in the flickering lights of the candles of the chandeliers. She looked at it, and announced the name of the sword, "Salvation". _If this sword cannot save innocent lives, let it lead them to salvation._ The men of the army roared after her, their cheers echoing in the entire Keep. The entire hall wavered with the heat of the men and the noise of the excitement. She then took out a favor, as was expected of her. And looked around. Margery, Joffrey, Aster, Archer, Apollo, Tyrion, all stood around her, amongst the other faces, excited. The handkerchief was large enough to tie around Jaime's muscular arm. It was golden in color and embroidered with the finest red silk. As she gave it to him, she kissed it, with hope and good luck, and he was sure he felt his knees give way. What was this? How could he feel this way? He loved another. He loved Cersei, Cersei , Cersei , Cersei, and yet he couldn't help but extend his hand to brush her cheek. Her soft cheek. She was as beautiful as the ocean, as soft as childhood dreams. And she looked up at him and for the first time in years it felt to him, her fierce brown eyes seemed soft.

_If she could have said anything, she would have said, "so that's it, I'm just some stupid girl who meant nothing to you?" and his green eyes would have snapped to his. "Yes," he would have swallowed thickly as if the words were like sand paper grating his tongue, "yes Andromeda, you meant nothing to me, you never did," he would've said more to himself than to her. She would have seen that he was lying, but that would not have hurt her less._ But she did not say anything, and he did not either. Some things are better left unsaid, buried under mounds of regret. 

The cloth had brilliant embroidery of lions at war and when he moved the cloth it seemed the color changed too. In the corner of it was written, in a light brown thread, 

_"Come home my lion, the lioness waits for you"_

The words written in a thick red thread sent everyone cheering for the couple. Everyone smiled, the Panthyraals and Lannisters and cheered for a short war. Only 3 people in the entire hall knew its true meaning. Cersei looked as if she had tasted a sour lemon, her face cringed in fear and something more, anxiety? Or guilt? Jaime looked at her as if he had seen his ghost. Andromeda looked calmly ahead, at Jaime's shoulder. She thought Tyrion knew too, for his eyes showed a strange softness for Andromeda. The raucous men repeated the lines again and again. And off they went. Andromeda tied the band around his arm, kneeling her head on his right arm as she was told, and prayed for his victory. _Whether she prayed for his victory or his death was unclear to Jaime._ What would be worse, he did not know either. He smiled at her, a genuine warm smile, a smile for her to remember him by, a smile that would wash his sins over time, and she smiled at him, a ghost of a smile, a smile for him to remember his sins by. And he left. Not knowing he would not come to see the same people ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this is pretty short too, but I just am so torn at both of these characters. I cant write them being sad anymore. Tune in tomorrow to read about the arrival of Lord Panthyraal, and the first POV of our Tywin! YOU GUYS WILL LOVE HIM.


	6. Old friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! This is the first Tywin POV. Lord Alizaar arrives in the Capital. The West gets to witness the glory of the East.

Summer had come for the Capital. The streets were filled with cheap perfumes and scents, anything really, to mask the scent of men. By afternoon, the only people wandering out were the women of Chataya's whorehouse, and Petyr Baelish's establishment. Some horses fainted, and men too, outside the Keep. Inside the castle however, the air was kept perfumed by servants every afternoon. Giant curtains and screens made of khas were installed on every window and wall, sprayed every hour with cool rose water to create some cool air in the stale rooms.

The day hung heavy on everyone, it seemed, but Tywin felt especially hot around his neck today, as he sat under the makeshift canopy, part of the welcoming party for Lord Alizaar. He was squinting in the sunlight, trying to drown the cribbing of his grandson King. Joffrey was huffing and puffing, scolding the servants to fan the air faster and ordering another to bring him something to drink. “Maybe the King would like to go back inside? The sun seems to make him lightheaded,” Tywin commented tartly, making Joffrey sat still at last. Cersei sat beside him, entirely disinterested with a cup in her hand. He could feel anger seething from her. His daughter, though the most beautiful lady of Westeros, had an angry look upon her ever since she was married. _That’s what marriage does to people_ , he thought to himself. 

Varys came behind him and whispered in his ear, “My lord, the entourage of Lord Panthyraal is close. They have crossed the Flea’s Bottom and are riding steadily up the Snake Road.” Tywin grunted in approval; Varys’ flowery perfume was nauseating. Tywin closed his eyes for a moment. He tried to picture Lord Alizaar’s face, his strong eyes, his thick beard, and his broad frame. He had met him no less than a decade ago, when he had gone to adjudicate upon a matter of sea trade in the Disputed Lands. Even then, he had an air of geniality in him. Warm, like the desert sand, he had beamed when he had seen him. Tywin expected the same warmth now. Especially when he had agreed to send a million men after his son to the Riverlands. _Not that he was not getting anything in return._ He had hinted at the union of Panthyraal into the Western royalty. He knew that Alizaar had 3 sons and 1 daughter who must be married. By marrying them into and around his family, he shall strengthen this alliance into a bond of family. In return of his army and his treasury, he would give him a part of his family, the _noble right_ to marry into his family. Impatience was creeping into him as his fingers drummed on the armchair of his chair.

He looked around him. To the left of him, the Panthyraals had formed their own group. The triplet warriors were all wearing different shades of the same violet. They stood proud, with their scimitars at their hips. In front of them stood a lady, Lord Alizaar’s daughter. She wore a red gown made of thin material. It was deeper red, not Lannister red. She wore big earrings and a nose ring, the gold twinkling in the sun light. He also noted how she had chosen to stand, and not sit like the _rest_ of them. _She must be getting impatient to meet her father._ He could see the signs of her impatience too; she was twisting a golden bangle on her wrist. But overtly, she showed no signs. She stood austere, her face a wooden mask. _Tywin found himself appreciating her then, her stillness._ He was reminded of the stillness of a tiger about to pounce. 

He looked at his family then; Cersei was diving into her goblet, and scowling at her son’s betrothed, who was presently wiping Joffrey’s brow with a small handkerchief. Tyrion was nowhere to be seen. _Good riddance._ The conversation he had with Tyrion about inheriting Casterly Rock still made Tywin fume in his chair. _My delusional stump of a son thinks he can inherit Casterly Rock._ He was distracted from his ire by Joffrey, who had most probably been hit by a sun stroke, “I cannot wait any longer! If Lord Alizaar does not arrive in a few minutes, I will shut the gates. How dare he make me wait like some servant!” Margery was trying to hush him, by fanning her kerchief at his face. Tywin had no patience for that boy today. “You will do no such thing. Lord Alizaar is my guest, and my guest will not be insulted by a little shit who cannot sit quietly for 2 minutes.” Everyone turned silent. Joffrey had turned red. He frantically looked behind him, to see who was guffawing, and then finally sat down, but not before throwing his cup at a servant. _That’s all that you’re good for. Throwing cups at poor servants._ Beside him, Cersei was glaring at someone from the far end. Tywin turned to look too, and found the Panthyrosis laughing amongst themselves. _Great! They think the King is some joke._ They hushed immediately under Tywin’s imposing glare and looked straight ahead. Tywin glared at her too then, but she just kept looking at him, _unaffected, as if challenging him._ Her face was plain, but her eyes. Her eyes were brighter than the sun. The thumping of the drums caught her attention and she broke the eye contact, and Tywin released the breath that was hitched in his chest. Tywin would’ve thought more about her insolence, but he was distracted too by the arrival of the flag runners. 

Lord Alizaar of the East was soon to enter the city. They all stood up then. The chairs were taken away. Immediately, Tywin was reassured, that this was going to be a successful venture, as he saw nearly 5000 men marching alongside the carriages. The man, all tall, all brown, had spears in their arms. Behind them were the riders and archers, 2000 each. Followed, in the end, by 10 elephants and 10 camels. _Lord Alizaar sure knew how to make an entrance._

It was said that so many kings passed through the narrow streets of King’s Landing, that the common people hardly looked at them. But the day that Lord Alizaar had arrived, everyone had gathered outside in the streets to witness the majesty of the East. Carriages after carriages, each bigger than the last rolled in the streets, followed by elephants and camels, had sent the entire city in a flurry of celebration. Flags of violet and red had covered the sky that day. They cried again and again, waving the billowing flags painted with 3 growling tigers. By the time they had reached the Red Keep, not a single child in King's Landing was unknown to the name of Andromeda of Panthyraal, the Lady of the East. _And what a beautiful lady she was, they said, she had long dark hair and her eyes have captivated the very soul of men._ _She is the princess in the sky, twinkling like a star, she was a constellation, she is the sky...._

After the procession, which he _felt_ had lasted an hour, he finally saw the biggest carriage stop in front of the gates. The carriage was as large as a small cottage. Painted in red and violet, trimmed with thick gold, _pure gold_. The doors were opened, and the Lord of the East came out. He was a tall man with a young face aged by war. His hair was as dark as his sons’ and were spiked with white. His face was long and his eyes seemed kind. But no one could mistake his face for a naive one. In his eyes was the pride of Panthyraal and in his body was the strength of a million men. He stood tall, until one after the other, all the men and women bowed low.

He greeted King Joffrey first. Tywin huffed to himself, his grandson was twitching like a dog with ticks. “My King, I bow to you!” Lord Alizaar’s voice boomed over them all. “My Lord, it is a pleasure to finally have you amongst us!”, next to Lord Alizaar’s gruff voice, King Joffrey’s voice sounded squeaky. It was not sure who bowed to whom, since Lord Alizaar did not really bow. He then greeted Queen Cersei. With a flourish, he took her small hand and with a smile that made even _the angry queen_ smile, he kissed her knuckles. “My Queen Regent, I have ridden a hundred miles to glance upon your lovely face,” his face may be old, but his smile was that of a young man. “My lord, thank you for gracing us with your presence,” Cersei laughed too, evidently charmed.

When he met Tywin, he stood still, as if gauging the lion in front of him. The Great Lion of the West stood taller than the Tiger of the East, yet the tiger looked more regal. Tywin stood still, not sure what was to follow, with a quizzical look on his face. The Small Council behind him nearly gasped, when the old tiger roared into laughter then, and pulled Tywin into an embrace, “Come now lion, no need to be aloof!” _Tywin hated being hugged._ But he could not really stop Lord Alizaar, who was although shorter than him, was surprisingly strong, even at 70. _Time had not changed him, neither his warm smile, and as he nearly crushed Tywin’s back with his hug, neither his strength._ People standing behind him could see how awkward Tywin had gotten then, evidently uncomfortable at being ambushed into a hug. It was then that they realized how close Lord Alizaar must’ve been to Lord Tywin, for him to be so brave as to pull the Great Lion into an _embrace._ Lesser men had been killed for looking at Lord Tywin for too long, but the old tiger did not care. He was meeting his old friend. “My Lord, how long has it been?” “Too long Tywin, I’ll tell you that much.” Tywin smiled too, a brief smile, that had disappeared in less than a second. _As if a trick of the light._

“And where are my little cubs?” Alizaar looked around. He laughed easily, but in his presence, no one else dared to laugh. Even King Joffrey was shaken up a little. Tywin then heard footsteps behind him and as if involuntarily, he turned to look at Lady Andromeda run towards her father. She nearly jumped into his arms, her father’s arms, and her father lifted her off the ground. The austere lady that Tywin had noted earlier was gone and a little girl had replaced her. Her little form nearly hidden in his ample layers. He dropped her, but not before he pulled her cheeks, “my little constellation, how have you been? The light was lost in Tygrysaar ever since you have left.” Andromeda pouted then, and whispered something that Tywin did not care to hear. _He had no patience for these sentiments._ His attention was at the camps being made and arrangements being made to accommodate the sizable army that Alizaar had bought with him. A little weight that was on his chest was finally lifted. His mind was imagining the size of the troop who had diverted from the Rose Road to follow his son. _Half a million men._ The other half were going to camp outside King’s Landing, securing the Capital. He was brought back to reality when he heard Lord Alizaar’s booming laughter again. This man sure loves to laugh. _And Tywin despised laughter._ He glanced at the commotion and saw Alizaar stand in front of his _three mirrors._ A small retinue of servants was carrying assorted things inside the Keep. Rugs, ornate vases, sheesham screens, lamp posts, and _was it a bird cage he just saw?_ Behind them, the elephants were being fed. The Panthyraals had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter, just a sort of introduction to Tywin Lannister. Please, please leave comments and suggestions, y'all give me life! l


	7. Slipping sands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin faces a dilemma. Let his son die in a Northern camp, or agree to make a choice that his heart did not want to make? But when there is a battle between a heart and a legacy, who will win?

It was past midnight. The Tower of the Hand had gone asleep. The only sounds that could be heard were of the sea waves crashing on the shore. But, in the chambers of the Hand, Tywin was restless. He was teetering on the edge between sleep and awake. His mind was conjuring dreams of the devil, either to comfort him to slumber, or to shock him awake. He tossed and turned, half aware of his senses. He was aware of the fire in the fireplace dying down, but he also dreamt that a horse came out of the fire, without its master. It was a white warhorse. Jaime’s horse. Jaime had been captured by Robb Stark near the Greenwood Motte forests. He had surged with his 10,000 men, expecting to catch Robb unawares, but had been captured by his 20,000 men, hiding in the mountain valley. The report did not mention anything else, only that Jaime was captured. Dark raven, darker words. _They have my son!_ He had thundered on the war council. The sight of their stupid faces had made him so furious that he had nearly thrown them in the ocean. But he couldn’t. _If he had the liberty to kill anyone he found stupid, nearly everyone would have been below the ground by now._ The dreams engulfed him again, he was swimming in a sea. The water was cool around him, he was floating on his back lazily. Suddenly, there was a loud splash around him and two hands came out and grabbed his head inside the water. Gasping for air, for _anything_ , he flayed his arms and legs, but the hands were stronger than him, they pulled him inside. _They were strong and he was weak._ That night, the weight of the entire realm was on Tywin Lannister’s chest. He opened his eyes and the water was red. _He was red._ He was submerged in the river of blood, and two hands held him there. He could feel the blood enter into his lungs; he was drowning. _Forever drowning._ His children were there too, their heads had been cut off and they were thrown around him, pulling his dead body deeper into the ocean. His eyes could feel the pressure of blood on them. He forced them open and in front of him, in the water, as if alive and dying once more, was Joanna. _Joanna. This was her blood. It was his libation._ He gasped awake!

Immediately he sat up. His heart was trying to get out of his chest. He was gasping for air, but no air would come to him. He ran to the windows, and forced them open. The cool air of the ocean wicked off the drops of sweat on his brow and neck. He grabbed the sill of the window, for he was half scared that if he did not anchor himself, he would fall down. _And which side of the window he would fall, he was not sure._ “Jaime has been captured by Robb Stark. He is a prisoner in his camp.” The words glowed amber in his mind. Wherever he looked, he could not stop seeing the tiny scrawl of an informant informing him about his eldest son and heir being captured. They have my son. My SON. If the gods were true, which he highly doubted lately, and they could bring Jaime in front of him, he knows what justification he would have given. He would’ve started of by saying something clever, “ _sending an assassin to kill him wouldn’t have looked good. It wouldn’t have been clean!”_ His son spent too much time worrying about what other people thought about him. _The lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinions of the sheep._ But Jaime did not understand. Jaime was blessed with abilities that few men possess. He was born into one of the most powerful family in the kingdoms. And he was still blessed with youth. _And what had he done?_ He had served as a glorified bodyguard for three kings, one a madman, other a drunk and the last a child. 

He gulped air. He felt as if in his fist, he held sand. The tighter he closed his fist, the more sand trickled out from under him. The cool air was beginning to melt the fire that was alit in his mind. He knew that if another House can capture his eldest son and heir and hold him captive with impunity, his house won’t be feared. He knew that the future of his family will be determined in these next few months. He could establish a dynasty that could last a thousand years… or he could collapse into nothing, as the Targaryens did. _But what could he do?_ He knew that Lord Alizaar, however genial, was not a _fool_. He would not send his _entire_ army into the Riverlands for naught. He had sent half of his army, as an extension of the promise that was never uttered, but was understood by both of them. He had left half his army looming in King’s Landing, as if to remind them that he held enough men to led an insurgency against the King _right now_ if he wanted. So, what was holding him back? Tywin could feel the cogs in his brain working once more. He wanted his daughter to be married. She was the key to the Eastern riches. And Tywin could see no one worthy enough to marry her. He would’ve proposed her marriage to Lancel, if not for his rather public affliction. He would have married her to Jaime, but Jaime was not ready to marry before he came back from the Riverlands, and now he was not sure if he would ever come back. Who? He knew of Alizaar’s pride. If he suggested a lesser match, perhaps a cousin of a lesser Lannister, Alizaar would storm off so fast, the entire Capital would be burnt. They had survived the siege of Stannis Baratheon, but they would not survive the attack of Alizaar, because he was already inside the Capital. And then there were the wall creepers, Tyrells. Their weak blood and a weaker position left them prone to disloyalty. Why would they not want to climb the last step to be the most powerful family? If they planned to marry Ser Loras to Lady Andromeda, Tywin’s two greatest competitors would pair up in front of him, and the Lannister legacy, which Tywin had forged in fire, would turn to dust. As he watched a lazy sun growing in the sky, he could see his own sun setting. Tywin would not let that happen. 

The sun had not even risen completely, by the time had been dressed for the day. Tywin was the first man to rise in the Keep, certainly the most important. He was a finely tuned machine. Everyday he would wake up before sunrise and get ready to take the first rounds of the Keep. He would walk around every station inside the Keep. His men would report to him of the smallest lags and issues. Tywin, through years of ruling as a Hand under inefficient Kings, knew the importance of solving small issues until they become reasons for a full-fledged mutiny. Fight between the sailors on the port, a scourge between the cooks, or a death of a stable boy, were all duly noted by Tywin’s scribe in a neat ledger. After his rounds, he would get ready to train for a few hours in the barracks. Then he would break his fast alone, and get ready for the Iron Court. The Iron Court was where common folk came with their grievances. It was long and tedious, and his grandson never presided, but Tywin would sit in his stead. _The true king of the Realm._ Presently, the Iron Court lasted till lunchtime. The common folk had borne the brunt of the battle of Blackwater Bay, and Tywin made sure that they were not too upset. He heard their complaints patiently, and imparted judgements with sound justice. He was spending a little of the Royal Treasury towards the rebuilding of the Flea’s Bottoms, and other areas that were hit the most during the battle. 

After lunch, which he also took alone, he held meetings of the small council. Presently, he was sitting with Lord Kevan, his loyal younger brother, in his solar. They had been discussing war strategies for a while now, and Tywin was growing increasingly irritated. They had been bent over a map of the Seven Kingdoms for 2 hours now, and in Tywin’s head the shapes had started moving because he had been staring too long. He looked up to see Kevan smiling at him. His smile told him that he had an answer to the question which had driven Tywin into near madness these past few days. Even as children, when Kevan would solve a puzzle, he would get a distinct smile on his face. Tywin knew this smile. He loved this smile, one of the _few_ smiles he tolerated. But as Kevan kept looking at him, he did not know what was to come. _And that was irritating him._

“Brother, the answer has been in front of us and yet we have been blind to it.” 

“What answer Kevan, speak up.” _I have no time for your antics today._

“The answer of the Panthyraals. The answer to _everything_ that has been troubling you so much that you have lost sleep.” _Kevan always knew when Tywin was not sleeping._

“If you have an appropriate suitor for Lady Andromeda hidden in your chambers, please bring him out now.” _Get on with it Kevan._

“Oh, I do have him, yet hidden he is not.” Kevan’s smile only grew wider, and Tywin scoffed. 

“Speak plainly, brother.” Not a request, it was a warning. 

“Lord Alizaar wants a western suitor for his daughter.” 

“I am well acquainted with his facts.” 

“He wants a suitor of undefeated position as his. And we want him to be from the Lannister family.” 

“Again, ṭhese plain facts will not give me any answers Kevan, speak directly.” Tywin was rubbing the bridge of his nose. He grew agitated at Kevan's sheepish smile. 

He did not like getting teased. He wanted knowledge. _Absolute knowledge._

“And who is of a better position to marry Lady Andromeda, than the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Warden of the West, the Hand of the King?” Kevan spoke with his excitement rising with each word. Tywin nearly let his cup fall from his hand. He stood speechless. 

“And in which world do you live Kevan? I have 3 children, and a wife.” He got up and stood facing the window. He could not even look at Kevan.

“Correction. You _had_ a wife. A wife that has been dead for 27 years brother, I think it is time to move on, _for the betterment of our family_.” Kevan surely knew how to lure Tywin. 

“Are you mad?! I am a man past fifty.” Tywin did not care that he was shouting now.

“You are a man of fifty AND you are also the most powerful man in the Westeros, Tywin. _Who better to marry the daughter of the most powerful man of the East?_ Can you assure a better match for the Panthyraal my brother? They are growing agitated, they will leave, or worse, marry into another family. We simply cannot afford that Tywin.” he walked up to stand behind him. It was as if he was explaining a child. “The only way to _save_ your son, the only way to _protect_ your legacy, and the only way to expand your Family in the East is to marry Lady Andromeda.” His voice grew softer. Tywin was still facing the window, but his shoulder blades did not seem as tense. Tywin was mad at himself, that the facts even made sense to him. _Never._ He turned to leave. Kevan did not stop him. He knew his arrow had hit mark, even though it would take a few days for the potion to take effect.

That night, as Tywin lay in bed, sleep evaded him, once more. But tonight, it was for all the different reasons. Yesterday, it was because he felt helpless. He was

desperate for a solution. But today, there was a solution, but Tywin could not take it. He was helpless, for all the different reasons. _Marry again?_ An idea that had seemed incredulous all these years, seemed unbearable tonight too, _and yet_ …

This was not the first time he had been offered to remarry, and every time he had scoffed and a singular word ‘No’ was strong enough to rebuke them. Joanna had died for the mortal world, _but she had not died for him._ I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, when somebody says your name for the last time. And Tywin had not stopped calling out her name. Every night, her name was his prayer as he drifted to sleep. Her name was the one that woke him up. She was his constant companion, _she resided in his very soul._ But tonight, his soul was on fire. _Who would he choose?_ His promise to her, or his duty to his legacy? Tywin hated himself then. A man who had spent his entire life building his legacy, was now ready to let it all burn. And for what? So, he did not have to marry a girl? Who was she anyways? She was just a girl. A young girl. A _naïve_ girl. _She would never take her place, never even come close to being what Joanna was for him._ But he could marry her and give her the title of his wife, if it meant saving his legacy. If it meant saving his son’s head. If it meant making Lannister the most powerful family in the Realm. It was the least that was expected of him. The cloak of duty lay heavy on him then. He knew he had no choice. That night, as he slept, finally making peace with his choice, in his dreams he met Joanna again. She looked just like she did on her wedding day. He fell at her feet. Asking for forgiveness. She asked him then, “forgiveness for what Ty? Let old memories not stop you from making a future for our family…” He woke up with a gasp. 

He knew what he had to do.

If only he had known, how marrying Andromeda would save him more ways than one, he would have slept some more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved writing this chapter. Tell me how you guys like it!


	8. A proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Andromeda agree to marry a man she has never even had a conversation with? The same man, who could make grown men wet themselves with his glare, and who had singlehandedly forged and torn down dynasties.

It is strange, how grief accelerates the passing of time. _Every day starts to look the same._ Days were passing by swiftly for Andy. She felt as if something inside her had cracked, for she did not feel _quite_ _happy_ anymore. Everywhere she went, she saw _him_. The barracks, she saw _him_ training. Sitting on the benches, _his_ hair golden, _his_ armor too. The gardens, she saw _him_ smiling in the sunlight. Eating cakes with her, sharing secrets. She had avoided Lord Tyrion too, his mismatched eyes reminded her of him, with his blond hair. Everywhere she went, she saw him around her. That is why she had reclused himself to her chambers. There was only one place she went, to visit her father. The only day she had laughed, ever since _he_ had gone, was when her father had arrived and spun her around. And yet, no one knew _what_ she felt, _why_ she felt it. It was nothing, she told everyone. It was nothing that had meant everything for her. 

She was sitting in her father’s chambers, sprawled on a chaise lounge of red velvet. In front of her was a letter that she was writing to Vega. Writing to Vega was how she counted her days. For each day, one letter. Her father was upstairs, as usual, in his solar conferring with Lord Tywin and Lord Kevan. From what she had overheard, the uprisings in the Riverlands were growing still. 

Her brothers entered then, a storm of dust and laughter. Aster threw a pillow at her and she screamed at them, “DON’T- talk- to- me” Archer threw another pillow at her, “what are you doing sister? Are you writing to Lord Jaime?” Apollo was in front of her, and in a crooning voice sang, “Dear lion, the lioness waits for you… please hurry back, or I don’t know what I will do.” A poorly made rhyme, but it made them buckle with laughter. Andy stood up from there and ran with her paper to the table in front of the open windows. But they followed her there too, “we know something you don’t sister.” They sang together. “You’re writing to the _wrong_ Lannister.” They had surrounded her now. She scoffed at them, quite irritated by their nuisance, “please leave me alone, all of you. I will tell father!” “ _I will tell father_ ”, they mimicked her voice and were laughing amongst them. Aster said, pretending to be serious, “but honestly sister, you’re writing the letter to the wrong Lannister, you do not know what we heard yesterday at dinner with Father”- and before he could complete his sentence, the doors in front of them opened and out came Lord Lannister and Lord Kevan with their father. Lord Lannister left without affording them a glance, while Lord Kevan nodded tightly at them, and they both left, as if in a hurry. Her brothers had sobered up in the presence of Lord Lannister, and Andy was thankful for that. His father stayed back and Andy ran towards him. Once with his large arm around her, she complained to her father about her brothers. “Father, tell these little monkeys to NOT disturb me. These idiots keep bothering me wherever I go!”, she complained, her voice very shrill. Her brothers whined louder and began talking at the same time, “father tell HER to go to her chambers. Why does she keep lying around here.”- “Father, she was the one to hit me first, I did not even DO anything!”- “But I was only telling her that she was writing to the wrong Lannister, she should be writing for-” “QUIET! All of you! All four of you combined make more noise than a fish market. Apollo, Archer, Aster- leave your sister be. Leave us now, we have something to talk about.”

Andromeda stuck her tongue out to her brothers’ defeated faces and mocked them. They had gone out of the eyesight of their father, and then made lewd gestures at her, to further irritate her. She scoffed at their juvenile behavior and followed her father upstairs, to his solar.

Once inside, she perched comfortably on a chair while he took his position behind the ornate black marble table. Andy thought that her father had made this excuse, just so her brothers would leave her alone. But when she looked at the hesitation on his face, she realized that something was up. “What is it, Father?” He lifted his eyes to look at her. _How she looked like her mother then._ Her brown eyes were wide with curiosity and her lips were slightly open. “What I am about to tell you Andy, you will need to hear with a lot of patience…” He rubbed his hands together, like he always did when he was worried about something. “What is it father?” her voice had cracked a bit with worry. She desperately searched his face for a clue, but found none. He resumed slowly, “Andy, you know that you were going to be married in the West. Before you had gone to King’s Landing, we had this conversation. Do you remember, love?” Andy nodded, her eyes were cast down, observing her hands in her lap. He continued after a moment, “I have a proposal for you. But I am not sure how you will react to it. But before I tell you about it, I urge you to think carefully before you answer, my child. This is a very important decision for us, Andy…” She was now getting impatient. She _hated_ looking at her father like this. She liked him when he was joking, or was angry at her brothers. But vulnerable like he was right now, was her least favorite shade on her father. “Yes, father,” her tone curt. His father leaned back in his chair; his eyes did not leave her even for a moment. She looked straight at him, to show that she was not a small child, and that she deserved to know what he wanted to tell her desperately. He finally said, “it is from the Lannisters.” And before Andy could reject Jaime’s proposal, he added, “- from Lord Tywin Lannister.” Andy’s face reflected her confusion. “Wh- what?” Her eyebrows were knit together and her mouth was agape. Alizaar took a deep breath, and reached forward to take her palm in both of his. His hands were huge and rough, and _warm._ He twisted the small ring on her index finger as he clarified, “Andy, Lord Tywin has proposed to marry you.” As the realization hit her, her hand snaked out from his hold. Her eyes were downcast. Her shoulders were crouched too. Alizaar tried to catch her eyes, but she was not ready to look at him. She was twisting the same ring on her finger now as she was biting on the inside of her lower lip. He let her be. He could see the weight of duty on her small shoulders. After minutes, she looked up at him, and Alizaar saw a changed woman in front of him, as if she had _aged drastically_. He shivered. “I want to meet him father, before I say yes.” In her eyes he saw the determination of a tiger, that shook him a little, so he had no choice but to say, “yes, my love, anything you need.”

As Andromeda lay in her bed that night, her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. Her room had all of a sudden become too stuffy for her, when the realization of the conversation with her father hit her. Lord Tywin… had proposed a marriage… to _her_.

Even an idiot could see why he would want to marry her. Their union would unite the East and the West. Andy could see how her father would rejoice at this union. She could see the logistics of it. It was a sound decision on his part. Lord Tywin needed an heir. Andy remembered Tyrion telling her how Tywin Lannister would let himself be consumed by maggots before he would let Tyrion inherit it. Tyrion would never inherit Casterly Rock. And with his eldest heir in the clutches of a Northern king, it was not unwise of Lord Tywin to think about securing his legacy by remarrying. But to Andromeda, it was very unusual. A man who she had only seen on formal occasions, and who had never even conversed with her, or smiled at her, was now ready to marry her. Even saying it out loud seemed too stupid.

She ran to the windows and threw them open. The cold air rushed in and Andy closed her eyes. Her heart was beating loudly now, but her mind was completely silent. It was as if since she had agreed to meet him, her mind had gone completely silent. She leaned on the window and looked beyond the walls. She could see the ocean, and it was restless just like she was. _They say he never smiles._ There was an owl hooting somewhere in the gardens. He rules the Realm with an iron fist. No, a _gold_ fist. The trees in the gardens were swaying gently. The susurrate of the trees whispered to her, “ _the man who has never gotten over the demise of his wife. You will never take her place”._ Tyrion had talked about him. Jaime had too. Her father spent every waking moment with him, and her brothers made jokes about the ‘Hand puppeteering the King.’ And yet, she knew nothing about the man she was to marry. Although Andy was not a naïve girl who believed in the fanciful notions of marrying the one you love, she atleast hoped that she would marry a man she would eventually _grow_ to love. And as little as she knew of Tywin Lannister, she knew that he was not someone you grow to love. He was someone you adjusted to, and over time, hope to grow accustomed to. 

The uncertainty overwhelmed her. The gnawing feeling of her life not being her own, of _losing control_ made her want to cry, but she did not. She had promised herself that night when she had emptied her heart to the sea that King’s Landing will never have her tears again. Instead she walked to her bed, and gingerly lay down, trying not to disturb Onyx who was curled on the covers. Her last thoughts before unencumbered sleep took her, were of the weight of duty, the love of a man who wore black to mourn his wife even after decades of her death, and the sorrow of a life with a man who will never grow to love her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late-ish update. Thankyou for your comments and please keep commenting and reviewing!


	9. A Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History's eyes were on the couple as they strolled in the gardens, not realizing the implications that their betrothal will have on the entire course of history of the seven kingdoms. They were like two streams mixing in the vast sea. He was frigid and calculative, where as she was warm and hopeful. Destiny, or something entirely other-worldly had brought these two entirely different people together, and they were oblivious to it entirely. What will happen when Andy agrees to change her future, and Tywin agrees to forget his past? In one word, fireworks.

Tywin was nonplussed. He had asked Lord Alizaar for the hand of his daughter, and he had agreed. Almost instantly. _Was Lord Alizaar already expecting him to propose to his daughter?_ If this was a bargain, Tywin felt unnerved that his opponent had left smiling. Alizaar had howled and agreed instantly, but not before patting him on his back, and warning him that the he must ask his daughter’s permission too. Tywin had nearly scoffed at him, but Kevan had agreed on his behalf, and for that Tywin was thankful because he was about to say something _really_ harsh. _Since when did fathers start asking their daughters permission for a betrothal?_ Maybe that was how things were done in Essos, after all in Tygrysaar, women also had rights of inheritance. He had to agree to his stupid condition and when Alizaar had informed him that she wanted to _meet_ him before she says yes, he was thoroughly furious. _As if I am a lion in a circus, that she bids me to jump through hoops for her!_

“Talk to her Tywin, you must.”

“There is no requirement for this, as I am not a harp-playing young pup that will roam the gardens with my betrothed.”

“Who is asking you to take her for a stroll, ask her to come meet you somewhere else, where you can sit and.. sit and acclimatize.” Kevan cleared his throat.

“Acclimatize?” Tywin could not hide the ridicule in his voice. He imagined befriending a wild tiger.

“Yes, _acclimatize_ to each other. You have to live together for eternity as it is.”

“Your belief in eternity wavers my belief in you being my real brother.”

“Joke all you want Tywin, I believe you need to strike an accord with your new wife to be. She is young, she is foreign and she is beautiful. You need to bring her to your side, before someone takes her in theirs. You do not want to spend a lifetime in doubting her allegiance to you, do you? With her being a Panthyrosi as she is. Do you want any more rifts in your wedded life?”

_After all, a foreign girl is hard to trust, harder to control._

Tywin could not help but agree to Kevan’s advice. Even to the better part of his judgement, foggy as it already was with her being a Panthyrosi, foreigner, young and beautiful, this seemed a good enough idea. _Befriend your enemy before he befriends your enemies_ , he wondered to himself. It was ironic to him how almost all principles of war applied to marriage as well. In stratagem therefore, if he is renowned for his tact in war, he should be renowned for it in marriage as well. The last time he had engaged in such a personal war was a lifetime ago for Tywin. The last time he had courted and wooed someone, he was a young lad, and she was his own cousin, not some foreigner enchantress. It was so easy with Joanna. Everything was so easy, so right. There was nothing forced between them, she fit right into his life. He wasn’t sure if it was true this time around.

As far as his life was concerned as the Hand of the King and the Warden of the West, no one was happier of this alliance than the Small Council. With the exception of _Cersei_. But the timing of it all must also have played a hand in this affair. He informed his children of his second marriage in a private meeting where he first discussed the marriages of his children. What had followed made him angry even after he recalled it days later.

“Your sister has learned that your new friends the Tyrells are plotting to marry Sansa Stark to Sir Willas.” Cersei had sat higher in her chair, smiling at Tyrion’s ignorance.

“Very well. She's a lovely girl. And as for Willas, he’s missing some bits but I don’t think Sansa would care.” Tyrion smirked at them. Tywin’s ire was rising.

“Your jokes are not appreciated.”

“It wasn't my best, but-

“I bring them into the royal fold and this is how they repay me, by trying to steal the key to the North out from under me.”

“Sansa is the key to the North? I seem to remember she has an older brother.” Tywin was disgusted by his son’s staggering ignorance.

“The Karstarks have marched home. The Young Wolf has lost half his army. His days are numbered. Theon Greyjoy murdered both his brothers. That makes Sansa Stark the heir to Winterfell. And I am not about to hand her over to the Tyrells.”

“The Tyrell army is helping us to win this war. Do you really think it's wise to refuse them?”

“There's nothing to refuse. This is a plot. Plots are not public knowledge. And the Tyrells won't carry this one out until after Joffrey's wedding. We need to act first and kill this union in its crib.”

“And how do we do that?”

“We find Sansa Stark a different husband.”

“Wonderful.”

“Yes, it is.” Cersei had smiled at Tyrion then, a smile of a lioness having caught her prey in her claws.

“You can't mean it.” Tyrion’s voice was breaking. Tywin had no patience for his antics.

“I can and I do.” _I am your Lord Father._

“Joffrey has made this poor girl's life miserable since the day he took her father's head. Now she's finally free of him and you give her to me? That's cruel even for you.” Tywin scoffed at Tyrion then. This boy will be the end of them.

**“** Do you intend on mistreating her? The girl's happiness is not my concern, nor should it be yours.”

**“** She's a child!”

**“** She's flowered, I assure you. She and I have discussed it at length.” Cersei was getting bored of playing with her prey.

**“** There, you see? You will wed her, bed her, and put a child in her. Surely you're capable of that.” Tyrion’s tales of whoring were not unheard of even after he was made Hand to King Joffrey.

**“** And if I refuse?”

**“** You wanted to be rewarded for your valor in battle. Sansa Stark is a finer reward than you could ever dare hope for. And it is past time you were wed.”

“I was wed. Or don't you remember?” He was furious then, and Tywin could see so much of Joanna in his anger. He was seething.

**“** Only too well.” He uttered lowly, grinding his teeth.

**“** You should be thanking the gods for this. This is more than you deserve.”

**“** Tyrion will do as he's bid. As will you.” he focused on Cersei. Her ears pricked at her name.

**“** What do you mean?”

**“** You'll marry Ser Willas Tyrell, the eldest son of Mace Tyrell.”

**“** I will not.”

**“** The boy is heir to Highgarden. Tyrion will secure the North, you will secure the Reach.”

They will marry Andromeda Panthyraal to Willas instead. Then, what will we do when our greatest enemies will stand united?” she was challenging him.

“I have already taken care of it. Andromeda Panthyraal will marry in the Lannister family.” He was always two steps ahead of her.

“Alizaar will not wait for Jaime to return. He will marry her to the Tyrells.”

“Jaime is not going to wed Andromeda, I am.”

A silence fell upon them all.

“You intend to soil our mother’s memories by marrying that tiger whore!” Cersei was screaming now. Tyrion simply looked dejected and his eyes had a look of disgust towards Tywin. Tywin could not care less about them.

“I intend to marry the daughter of Lord Alizaar, who is fund rolling the war to get your brother released. His men guard you and your children. I intend to wed Lady Andromeda, as you will wed Willas.”

**“** No, I won't do it.” _Insolence. Always insolent._

**“** Yes, you will. You're still fertile. You need to marry again and breed.” _Simple facts._

**“** I am Queen Regent, not some broodmare!” Tywin could feel his ire rise again. She will not disrespect him like this.

**“** You're my daughter! You will do as I command and you will marry Willas Tyrell and put an end to the disgusting rumors about you once and for all.” He was shouting, and the table had shaken when his fist met the wood.

**“** Father, don't make me do it again, please.”

**“** Not another word.” He had risen from his chair. “My children. You've disgraced the Lannister name for far too long.” He left them brewing in their anger, the reverberations of their _skirmish_ were audible even when he had walked up to his solar.

Tywin was brought back to the present as a sudden realization hit him. The fact that he had not _actually met_ Andromeda till now dawned on him right as he was walking up to her chambers. He had _seen_ her, sure. He remembered noticing her face in the Welcoming dinner held in the Red Keep in the honor of their arrival. The first thing he noticed when he had seen her sitting on the high table next to the King was her long hair. She had left her hair open, parted in the middle with a single brooch keeping her hair away from her face. It was so different from the way women in Westeros, who kept their hair tied in elaborate coils. She had a long face, with big eyes that were darkened with kohl and pointed lips. She had kept to her own, as opposed to her triplet brothers who like a trick of the light could be seen at every table. He had _talked_ about her, sure. But he had never _met_ her.

He even remembered clearly the flagons of Arbor wine and the caskets gilded with gold that were sent to Lord Alizaar and Lady Panthyraal when she was born. Afterall, he was the Hand of the Mad King then, and he was the one who ordered the caskets to be sent to Lord Alizaar, as a beacon of goodwill and friendship.

That he had no knowledge of his future partner besides her birth unnerved Tywin. _He did not like uncertainty._ Although a lady is largely governed by her Lord father and then her Lord Husband, Tywin knew better than to believe that she had no power. He had seen kingdoms fall to dust and kingdoms rise from dust, all because of a single lady. And this was a powerful lady, backed by her family’s riches and her multiple brothers. She was capable of wreaking havoc on his dynasty. He had to establish trust, or at the least, familiarity with his lady wife. _Lady Wife._ It felt weird to say it out loud. _Lady wife._ He looked at the open windows of the corridor and saw the gardens and the sea beyond the gardens. _Lady wife she could become. But_ _she would never be his lover._

He knocked on the doors, and a few moments later, a young eastern girl opened the doors and allowed him in. She was a mousey girl who could not look up at him, as he expected his future wife to be too. _Young girls are seldom courageous._ And he was aware of his effect on fully grown men. A young girl would be so intimidated that she might not even _talk directly_ to him for a while. And that suited him just fine. He was led into a lofty sitting room with plush feminine chairs. A round black cat sat on the chair opposite the one offered to him. The cat made him uneasy with its green stare. It was as black as nightfall and as fluffy as a cloud. Its eyes were fixed on Tywin and its tail was moving slowly. Tywin watched it intently. Suddenly, it pounced on his foot, but missed it by a great length as the voice of a door opening distracted it. _Tywin chuckled to himself._ From the inner stairs walked down a lady. Her robes bellowed behind her as she walked towards him. She had fair skin and a tall frame. These were the first things he noticed about her. _Then he noticed finer details._ Her eyes were brown and her lips were shaped like a bow. She was not smiling but she was not frowning either. She wore a deep cut dress of amaranthine. _Not quite Lannister colors, yet almost._ Her collarbones stood out on her fair skin. A single long chain with a gold locket attached to it rested against her skin. The deep cut of her dress showed the fair soft skin of her chest. She was beautiful. _There was no doubt that the girl was beautiful._ She took his offered hand and sat down gracefully where the cat was sitting a few moments ago. It seemed that the entire room had brightened in her presence. Then he realized it literally had, because the maids had opened the windows. He felt the pleasant breeze of the sea. She was looking at him, plainly. She wore no malice or excitement on her face. _He liked that she was somber and conducted herself with the modesty that her high birth demanded._

“It is a pleasure to meet you my lord.” Her voice nowhere near as squeaky as he had hoped. He straightened in his chair. 

“Likewise, Lady Andromeda.” Her name sounded foreign on his tongue. “I hope you like it here in King's Landing.” But in his tone, there was scarcely any ‘hope’.

“Yes, I love it here, despite the people and the war.” She was not a fool. He knew it then. The way her eyes sparkled showed that she was not a numb-wit. 

“My lady, you must have heard of the recent implications of our alliance.” Getting to the topic, he had no time to waste. He had to look after the seven kingdoms after all, and three of them were in open rebellion.

“Yes, my lord”, she did not sound disappointed, but it was difficult to gauge her emotions. Her hands were clasped in her lap. _So the tiger is nervous._ But outwardly, she showed no signs of being intimated.

“I hope you are not thoroughly displeased by the match. I will rescind it if you are uncomfortable with it.” He said even though he knew he would not be able to cancel it now, but it was just a formality, to make her feel heard. 

“No, my lord, quite the contrary. I wish to help my realm in the time of war, and I fully abide by my Lord Father's decision. I just wished to meet you once. There are so many couples who get married without even looking at the face of their spouse, and I hoped we could be different. Don’t you agree?” He decided that her voice was _pleasant_. She had a Tygrosi accent, and her voice was not shrill.

“I do, my lady.” Her logic was pretty sound. “After all, every marriage is an alliance, a contract. And it is essential to know your partner before you start an enterprise with them.” She nodded at him, and when she did so, a lock of her hair came on her face. She looked up at him, and Tywin could feel her peering into his soul with her large tiger eyes. “That’s a rather clever method.”

“Well, I have been making alliances for a long time now my lady,” he smiled to himself. _A long, long time._ She smiled at him, but her smile was restrained, it did not reach her eyes. “My lady, would you like to take a walk with me? It is quite pleasant outside, this time of the day.” _Tywin chided himself for being so flowery, like a green boy._ She nodded and stood up. He stood up to him, and when she looked up at him, he could see her realizing the difference in their heights. Even though she was tall, she still came to his chest. When he looked down at her, he realized how close he stood to her. _Too close._ He smelled a faint smell of a flower on her. He did not know what it was, only knew it was _pleasant._

Only when they started walking together, did he realize how long it had been since he had strolled through the gardens with a lady. They walked silently. But the silence was not oppressive. Tywin had to take care to not walk too fast. _And he hated walking slowly._ But that is what you’re supposed to do when you’re accompanying someone to a _‘walk to the gardens.’_ He had nothing to talk about either. No court gossip about a lady’s secret lover that would make her feel comfortable. He could talk about war supplies and preparations, but even he, as outdated as his methods of courting were, knew that she would not be interested in it. They had no likes, no point of convergence. He looked at her, to see if she was getting uncomfortable with silence. _He knew how young women could not carry silence._ But she surprised him. She was simply observing the flowers in the bushes. She stretched her arm lazily to touch one, but did not pluck it. “Those are wild Casterly Bells. They are very easy to grow, but they require patience though, because they may take upto two years to blossom.” Andromeda nodded at him. She touched another one, but did not pluck it again. “Do they grow in abundance in Casterly Rock?” Her question was more to the flowers themselves, but he answered on their behalf. “Yes, there are entire fields covered with these flowers. They pair well with melon and cucumbers.” He found himself thinking about Casterly Rock then. The castle, the fields, the waterfalls. He was smiling to himself. “Do you enjoy gardening?” her question was one of genuine interest. There was no hint of facetiousness. “Yes, when I was a child, I used to enjoy gardening.” Even talking about it made him feel _old_. “My brother, Orion, loves it. You would enjoy talking to him.” “hhmm, I’m sure.” She was simple, talking to her was simple.

Tywin motioned towards the path on their left, where you could feel the ocean wind coming from the groves. They walked in silence again, Tywin leading and Andromeda following astride. They passed a flock of people, and they all had the same expression of wonder when they saw the couple pass them by, before they bowed at Lord Tywin’s formidable person. It was Tywin who broke the silence again, ‘‘this union shall determine the future of both our Houses. Like all marriages, this one will require work. Work that I am prepared to do, provided that you are too. As you would have been explained by your Septa, marriage requires work. It requires compassion and compromise.” His tone was callous, as if he was discussing war strategy with his generals.

In that moment, she thought of him as a priest giving his sermon. She imagined him wearing a white smock that the priests wore and it made her giggle involuntarily. At that sound, he looked at her and she saw how his face reacted to her laugh with a scowl of its own. She saw how he looked at her as if she was a child. She straightened her face and said earnestly, “I am glad you have such a cooperative outlook towards marriage. Normally, men wouldn’t want to talk about these things.”

“Well, most men are fools.” That made her smile again, and this time when he looked at her, she saw no scowl.

They had reached the end of the garden. They faced a ledge and beyond that, the Narrow Sea. The sun was setting just then and the golden rays illuminated the white stones to appear golden. The seagulls were coming home for the night. Tywin rested his hands on the wall and faced the ocean. Even when he was looking at the waves in the ocean, lapping at the shore, his eyes did not lose their intensity. She noticed how his eyes were not all green, like Jaime’s. His eyes had golden flecks in it. He looked like a golden lion then, in the sunlight. The blond hair on his face sparkled and the pin of the Hand on his doublet shone magnificently, nearly blinding her. He was not nervous in silence, he embraced silence, and she did too, entranced in the motion of the waves, their persistence. She remembered the day when she stood small in front of the sea in that cove that night. It all seemed as if it had happened in another lifetime. Maybe it was another lifetime. She was not the same person who had joked with Jaime, and frankly, Andromeda was liking who she was now. Standing there with Tywin made her feel as if she was a different person. And she wanted so desperately to be a different person. A person who did not feel this emptiness, this everlasting nothingness. She wanted to be the daughter her family expected her to be. She wanted to abide by her duty to her family. She knew she would agree to the proposal, it was her chance to start her life anew, without the blemishes of the past that corroded her from inside.

She looked at the persistence of the waves and thought to herself, “if the waves could persist every day to touch the land, she could try too to make ‘this’ work. But what ‘this’ was, she was not sure. The waves calmed her, the smallness of her person against the vastness of the Narrow sea made her feel alive today, after so long. They stood like that, close to each other, watching the sun set over the hills and the waves of the sea glimmering like liquid gold. To someone watching them from afar, it seemed that they were spending a moment alone, probably dreaming about their future, but they alone knew that there was nothing of this sort. They were simply two people enjoying each other’s company in silence. They were two people who were carrying the weight of all that was, and all that will be. History had its eyes on them then. “My lord?” she had broken the silence finally, when the sun had completely disappeared. “hhmm?” he turned his head slightly in her direction. “I agree to your proposal Lord Tywin.” They were betrothed.

When he was walking towards his Tower, he felt himself slow down, involuntarily, as he, for the first time in many years, enjoyed the cool wind of the sea blowing in the corridors that made the curtains dance. 

He had foregone the company of a woman for 27 years. _A whore’s mouth in the time of war, did not count._ No one had shared his bed; he had not shared anyone's for a long time. He woke up in the dark and went to bed in the dark. _Darkness had become his mistress._ He had worked silently and efficiently. Disturbed by no one, and bothered by no one. _He had truly settled into his life of isolation._ And now, in a few weeks, a _woman_ was to come in his life. She would have the right by oath to leave her markings on him, his life, and his legacy. She would bear him heirs, and over time, hopefully, they would grow to develop a tacit trust. Tywin had never been hopeful, but having had a single conversation with his betrothed had left him with a ghost, a slice, of something that resembled hope. He was also relieved to find that she was not an obnoxious woman, neither was she a mournful, dispirited creature. She was simply, herself.

But mostly he was relieved this was over, however _unexpectedly_ pleasant it was. He could finally go back to his work. The report of the sewages of King’s Landing required reading and he had to approve the dishes of the seventy-seven courses of Joffrey’s wedding. If the Battle of Blackwater Bay hadn’t hit them already, this wedding will certainly lead the Crown to bankruptcy. As he climbed the stairs, he made a mental note of arranging another meeting with Lady Ollena and noticed that from the small window on the stairs, the last rays of sunlight were still seeping through. Orange rays illuminated his black boots, and he was reminded of her eyes then. How they looked ordinarily black to him until then, but in the sun light, they were a warm brown, like molten copper. She had not tightly woven her hair around her face, but left them loose, such a rarity in King’s Landing that it almost looked forbidden, almost naked. He pushed these frivolous thoughts out of his mind as he sat on his chair and opened a fresh bottle of ink. He always enjoyed the smell of fresh ink and old books. He always smiled to himself as he opened a bottle of fresh ink or heated a trough of wax, privately of course. No one, even his squire was privy to his brief moments of pleasure. He penned an absent-minded letter to the armory in Casterly Rock, his mind distracted by the faint smell that still lingered in the air around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please keep commenting and reviewing! Lots of Love-AA.


	10. The Bidding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin is begrudgingly asked to attend an evening. But even the most uneventful evenings can have sweet surprises.

Tywin was sitting in his solar. The beams of last light had faded and then completely disappeared, and like clockwork, his squire Lyol came in to light the torches and the chandeliers. He also reminded him of a tedious event that he was required to attend at sundown, which earlier he would have not even heard about. And if had heard, he would’ve scoffed and returned to his work. But not today.

The event in question was the bidding on the materials of wedding dresses. As silly as it sounded, due to the alarming number of weddings that were about to take place after the battle of Blackwater water Bay, it was impossible that the finest dressmakers of the Seven Kingdoms could make dresses for all the Ladies of the Court, and all the ladies belonging to prominent Houses vied after the best fabric and the best dressmakers so that their dresses could be the most beautiful. To remedy this, Cersei being the Queen Regent, ordered for the dressmakers to assemble at the Red Keep at the beginning of the wedding season, where all the Ladies gathered and bid on the fabrics for their dresses. The fabric once bid upon, would not be repeated, if requested by the bidder, while generous ladies like Margaery Tyrell would often donate the fabric to ladies of lesser houses or their handmaidens. Cersei was known for having the fabrics she bid on burnt after her dresses were cut out so that no one in the seven kingdoms could have a dress like hers. With more Houses in King’s Landing than ever before, this bidding had become an opportunity for Houses to brazenly display their wealth. The Panthyraals and the Martells did not participate in this race. Firstly, they practiced different wedding rituals and secondly, they simply couldn’t travel this far. But today, for the first time in almost 50 years, the Panthyraals and had a daughter marrying in King’s Landing. And since Tywin was the groom in question, his presence was expected.

‘I am too old for this’, he thought to himself as he asked Lyol to bring him his wine before he gets dressed for this foolery.

The auction was held in the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast. As soon as the doors of the halls were opened to announce the entry of Tywin, the smell of sickening sweetness hit his nostrils and immediately gave him a mild headache. The air was thick with preservative perfume that was generously sprayed on every roll of fabric. The floor of the halls was covered with a myriad of cushions, couches and lounge chairs, on which were spread the ladies of the Seven Kingdoms. Tywin was guided to the balcony where the men stood amongst themselves, drinking heartily. Plates of glazed pears and cheese with bread and grapes were seen moving like flies all around the halls. Tywin stood sipping wine with Lord Lefford and Lord Alizaar waiting for this godforsaken ordeal to end. The daughter of Lord Lefford was marrying the son of Lord Mallister. As the herald announced the arrival of Queen Cersei, the auction officially began.

Tywin stood facing the gaggle of women and spotted _her_. She was sitting next to Lady Margery who was excitedly telling her something. Her face was turned towards her and she was smiling. Just then, her eyes shot upwards suddenly and she looked at him. Her face was neutral at first, but then she smiled warmly, but before he could call her _a blushing maiden_ , he realized that the smile was directed towards her father, who stood right next to him. Alizaar waved to her then and she laughed at him. Before turning back again, she skimmed over Tywin once. He was glaring at her back, not knowing what he felt. At one point he felt content, that she was a level-headed lady who did not expect such _foolery_ from hers. He was impressed at how mature she was for her age, and how well she understood the nature of their relationship. But he would never ever confess that in the deepest of hearts, he felt a pang of jealousy when she did not even bother to smile at him. _He chided himself then._ It was not as if he was expecting her to throw a kiss. This was precisely the type of behavior he hated and what she had shown was a specimen of behavior he cultivated for years in his family. And yet…

The initial fabrics, even from far away, were too drab, and were bid on by the humblest of the Ladies, or Handmaidens for as low as ten silver stags. But gradually, the dressmakers revealed more expensive fabrics that were bid on by ladies belonging to more prominent houses. Lady Margery shocked everyone when she bid one golden dragon for a roll of blue fabric with yellow linings, which was supposed to be used to clothe the orphans in flea bottom. Tywin chuckled then, when she announced this to everyone and received applaud for it and when he saw Cersei’s long face showing the slightest of scowls. As the hour trickled by, most of the men were now growing impatient. Only few fabrics were left now, and he saw _her_ straighten her back, readying herself for the bid for the best fabrics of the Seven Kingdoms.

The bids had now reached fifty dragons per roll and when the last roll was unfurled majestically, nearly everyone in the hall gasped. The fabric itself was ivory in color, but there was something in it which made it shine so brilliantly, even when it was dark outside. It gleamed like it was silver spun. The embroidery on it was so intricate that the dressmaker had a swatch of the fabric passed to every prominent lady with a magnifying glass. The dressmaker stood proudly in the center watching every lady comment on how it seemed as if the figures stitched on it were dancing. “The work on it is so intricate, my ladies, that 40 septas went blind working on each roll of this fabric,” the man declared in a thick Bravosi accent. His little moustache couldn’t stop twitching at all the ladies commending his work. _He had outdone himself_ , they all said.

“Let the final auction begin. For this fabulous roll of fabric, of which only two have been made in the seven kingdoms, let the bids begin at a hundred dragons.” Her hand was visible shooting upwards, along with Margery’s and Cersei’s and a few others who were simply faking it. As the bid increased to two hundred dragons, most hands were withdrawn meekly. Only three hands stood, hers, Margery’s and Cersei’s. It was customary for the queen to have the most expensive fabric, but Andromeda and Margery were not going to budge. Everyone in the hall was now silent, except his fool of a grandson Joffrey, who could not stop commenting and joking. As the bid increased to three hundred dragons, _she_ was adamant, but Lady Olenna was furiously discussing with Lady Margery, who upon a final angry look from her grandmother withdrew from the race. A sigh ran around the hall. And yet she was adamant. As the bid increased every twenty-five dragons, the sparks between his daughter and his future wife increased. Cersei looked at her with such fire in her eyes, that if it was anyone else, they would’ve withdrawn, but Andromeda was determined to win. Her face showed a steely resolution that was characteristic of her Lord Father. When the bid reached four hundred dragons, Tywin could not look away for a second. _A lioness and a tigress, out in the open._ Everyone sat on the edge of their seats.

He was fascinated by this war. Cersei, who never showed any sign of weakness, seemed nervous. But no one could tell except him. Her brow was sweaty and she was sitting upright, the swigs of her wine were now furious and her eyes kept rocketing towards her. At four hundred and fifty dragons, where other houses could buy ten years’ worth of grains and a dowry, Cersei finally decided to step down. Her face was openly angry then, and she left the hall furiously. The noise of a certain glass hitting the floor could be heard to the ones standing next to the doors. His daughter had lost, and for that he was cross. But this meant that his wife-to-be had _won_. As the dressmaker bowed to her and handed to her the ornate box containing the roll of the fabric, the entire hall clapped and cheered, the women out of jealousy and admiration and the men for the fact that this painful ordeal had come to an end, but mostly because for the first time in seventeen years, someone had outbid Queen Cersei. She stood amongst a crowd of people surrounding her, eager to congratulate her and get in her good favors. Tywin climbed down the stairs as he saw a way being made for King Joffrey and Lady Margery to congratulate her. Tywin scoffed at the flourish bow that Joffrey did and the way he kissed her fingers. He could hear from afar his nasal raucous voice wrapped in sweet words. He stood away then, letting the crowd dissipate. _He will not fight with lesser lords to catch his wife-to-be’s attention._ He stood in the corner, and when she was finally alone with her Lord Father, he approached her, as duty commanded. The people had to witness them courting. In the broadest sense of the word.

-~oOo~-

She had noticed him when he was coming down the stairs. If it was not a trick of the lights, she would’ve believed that Lord Tywin was smiling to himself. But that was not true. _He never smiled._ As he approached her, she thought of all the things she would say to him, but why would he be interested to know these things, she did not know. As he stepped closer, she could feel a real smile coming on her face as she faced him, but then something happened. He went to the sides, as more people gathered around her. She craned her neck once to find him standing in the corners, waiting for his turn to come. It made her stomach somersault.

When everyone had left, only he remained and then he approached her. Her cheeks felt hot red when he bowed and kissed her knuckles, his beard softly grazing her fingers, tickling them. “Congratulations, my lady. You truly deserve this victory.”

“Th-thankyou my lord.” She could feel the _rush_ again. She chided herself for feeling this nervousness in his presence. She was a tigress, and she was not going to be intimidated by him. And yet, whenever he looked at her, she could feel the nervous tic gnawing her stomach from inside. He offered to walk her to her chambers, and she accepted. Behind them, watching them go, Lord Alizaar smiled to himself.

As they walked down to her chambers, silence was punctured with short quips and sentences. But she was content with this. They discussed the details of their wedding. As weird as it was to her even now, he called it ‘our wedding’ with such normalcy that she did not feel queasy about it anymore. He was explaining the schedule to her, _more like in her general direction_. When Tywin spoke, he spoke with such flair and impetus that it did not invite any interjections or questions. She could only nod as he painted the picture of their wedding ceremony, as was followed in the Western counterparts.

‘Uhh-um?’ she cleared her throat to signal her interjection. He stopped briefly and looked at her, an expression as if he expected her to ask a stupid question. “I wish, if it please you…” “Yes… continue?” he said, softer this time, but with a tinge of irritation. She felt like a child again.

“I wish that we could also perform the Tygrosi wedding ceremony after the wedding ceremony of the Faith. Everyone in my family ever has married in this way” She added as an afterthought as she looked at her feet, waiting for rejection. _Ofcourse he would say no,_ she just did not want to witness the scowl on his face when he says no.

“That… can be arranged.” He said, after a pause. “Let’s see, the Tygrosi ceremony shall be held after the Western ceremony. It can be held somewhere more private with a smaller audience. Will that be alright for you?”

“Yes, yes, thankyou my lord.” She gushed over him. She had not expected him to agree so easily. She felt content, knowing that she will get to honor her Gods on her wedding day and get married the same way her mother had been, and her mother before her and every daughter of Tygrysaar before her. _This was his way of being kind to her,_ it dawned on her as she glanced at the tall man who was walking with shorter strides than he was used to, to accommodate her. The air around her felt lighter as she walked to her chambers. She felt happy. The rush of winning the auction and now, the benevolence of her betrothed made her feel giddy. She had not felt this happy in a long time. As they slowly reached the doors of her chambers, and she stood in front of him, her neck was burning hot with the thoughts in her head. His hands were clasped behind his back, and in the light of the candles, his black leather tunic looked as if on fire. His face appeared softer too. “We shall meet once to discuss the details of the Tygrosi wedding ceremony.” “Thank you, my lord.” Her face was alit. “Sleep well, my lady.” He bowed a little. His eyes seemed kind. “You too, my lord.” And with that she stood on her tip toes to kiss him on his cheek. Her entire face was on fire. The realization of what she had done did not hit her until she heard the clinking of the guards who stood behind her guarding her door. As if they too, were shocked. Her eyes were wide in shock as she stood on her feet again, but the ground below her feet was shaking.

And without a look behind, he left. 

-~oOo~-

Tywin liked to tell himself that it was the _element of surprise_. Whatever it was, he did not flinch when the foreign girl pulled her face up to him and kissed him on his cheek. He could smell the cumin wine on her breath for the briefest of moments, her hair on his cheek as she pulled away just as fast. But for the life of him, _he could not react_. Anger was expected of him. He should be angry. How could this girl kiss him without his permission? He knew he had to get angry, but when he saw her smiling and thanking him for allowing such a small request and when she was on her toes she came so close to his face that he could look into her eyes, really look into her eyes, he could simply not get angry. This was diametrically opposite to his nature. He hated public displays of affection, any displays of affection if possible, public laughter, any laughter if possible but most of all he hated being taken by surprise. He felt he was too old to be pranked, hoodwinked or even shocked, and hated it at every turn. _But her kiss, it was something else._ Something so small, and innocuous that any passerby would have hardly taken notice of it, but it sent a jolt down his spine. It rattled the old cage whose key was lost long ago. Something so basal, so primal that he had no name for it.

When he saw her looking scared, he had half a mind to touch her cheeks then and… and what next he did not know. He had simply lost touch in comforting young maids. But he held himself, and cleared his throat, hoping it would be enough. He had left without a look. He needed to return to the comfort of his chambers, his chair, his table, this evening was far too unusual for him. He was unnerved. The pride that he felt for his bride to be, the honor that she would bring to his legacy, the duty that he is fulfilling by marrying her, all were swirling around in his head, mixed with something else. Something that made him feel queasy and unsure of himself. Something that was settled in his chest.

But even as he lay in his bed, his mind half numb from the wine he had consumed, somewhere deep in the crevices, the kiss was replayed over and over again. It was that hour of the night, when the ghost of Joanna visited him as he sunk deeper in the realms of dreams. He woke up every morning feeling as if a silent visitor had hugged him to sleep, and knowing that it was wine that made him feel so. But tonight, right before his mind wandered to another land, the memory of her lips and her kiss kept him tethered to this realm like a thin thread anchoring a large ship. After the death of his wife, he had not remarried or taken a lover. He simply didn’t see the need of it. With the death of Joanna, a certain part of his soul had also died, the part that was associated with love and desire, or so he thought. He never for a doubt considered that the foreign girl would ever take her place. She was a duty that he had to fulfill in order to continue his legacy. It was all that would live on. Every decision that he took in regard to that foreign girl was one of convenience, one of stratagem. He did not care about her as a person, the only thing he cared about were the lands and titles associated with her. Or so he thought earlier. But today, a brief chaste kiss from that foreign girl lit a match in the large cave filled with darkness.

What he simply regarded as a pawn to further his legacy had made him proud today, a feeling that he had rediscovered after a long time. Today, when that girl won the auction, he felt _true pride_. He felt proud of his choices and content with the fact that this girl would fit in his family. Fulfilling, no, agreeing to fulfilling a small request of hers had made her so happy. He hated displays of happiness. The falsity of it, the excitement of it, it was but a display of weakness. But when he saw that girl happy today, he didn’t nearly mind as much. 

Alas, he was dwelling on stupid thoughts, or so he said to himself as he turned to face the other side and let the waves of sleep take him, to a dreamless realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry guys for the static silence. I was dealing with some personal issues, but now I am back! :)  
> Hope this makes up for it! Keep commenting and showing your love!  
> Next chapter will be the Wedding, so stay tuned!


	11. The Wedding of the Great Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Alliance. The Wedding day of the Great Lion is finally here. But what was a somber wedding could have a strange culmination, as the end of the day brings shocking news for Tywin. And the morning after was no less strange either...

The words that were spoken so solemnly evaporated into the air in the colossal Sept. Everyone stood in absolute, revered silence. No one dared disrupt Lord Tywin’s wedding ceremony. No one dared face the wrath of the Great Lion on his wedding day. The rows of the Sept were decked with all the prominent Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms, up till the doors of Baelor’s Sept. Even lesser lords who could not afford a place in the immense Sept stood outside the gates, lining the hundred steps leading to the royal carriages. Below the carriages, the entire King’s Landing waited on that hot afternoon to take a look at Lord Tywin’s bride.

The air in the Sept hung low. Men adjusted their standing collars and women ruffled their gowns hoping to catch some air. Children shuffled their feet. Sweat cling to the back of everyone’s necks, yet no one left the musty Sept. Once the vows were said and the hands were wrapped in the ribbon, it was time for the cloaking ceremony. Tywin, with his characteristic smugness removed the Tygrosi cloak of red and purple and wrapped his own heavy red one with a golden lion with such flair, that the entire Sept gasped in wonder and clapped. Then, he ceremoniously and with the utmost lack of passion pressed his lips on hers and it was then that Andromeda couldn’t help but feel sad for herself. Her hand was still in his and when he kissed her, she couldn’t help but remember all the kisses she had witnessed between brides and grooms and found that this one was nothing like them. When Orion had kissed Vega, he had swung and dipped her in his arms and the crowd had gone mad. When her cousins got married, she always remembered how they couldn’t control their smiles, how their knuckles had gone white because they were holding their hands so tightly, how everyone had cheered for a kiss, a longer one and how, above everything, the couple was so terribly in love, she couldn’t help but shed a tear for them. But there was nothing of this sort here. There was no love, no cheers and howls, no white knuckles and laughter, no throwing of flowers and no dipping.

When Lord Tywin kissed her, he did not hold her cheek, nor did he whisper sweet nothings, promises of love. Nothing was said between them with bated breaths except the words that were dictated by the High Septon. Lord Tywin did not show any expression except that of stoic determination and when she looked at the crowd, _no one shed a tear._

She saw Cersei, the fierce cat, standing malevolently. Her face was about to crack from all the smiles she was faking. Beside her stood Joffrey, the boy King, smirking as if a sick joke had been played on Andromeda, only she didn’t know yet. On his side was Margery, smiling sweetly, as if to abate the acid spewed by her future husband. Behind them stood Tyrion and Sansa, the only two people on the aisle that seemed genuinely happy at her, but too afraid to show. On her side of the aisle, her father stood proud. His face was serious but his eyes were joyous. She had seen this expression before. It was the same expression that he made when he won. _A bet, a battle and this case, a golden alliance._ Her three brothers stood solemn, and nodded small at her when she saw them. This was her wedding, a gathering of scared and solemn men in a stuffy Sept.

She felt tears welling her eyes but she would not show weakness. She is a tiger, and tigers fight, they never run away. _She did not come to King’s Landing to participate; she came to dominate._ She spoke the words of her house repeatedly until the tears were dry, _We rule, We conquer, We rule, We conquer,_ over and over, until her heart beats drummed the words into her rib cage.

By the time she was led by him to the end of the aisle, she could see a million faces with no one to recognize. Here and there she saw Eastern lords and ladies and by the time she could remember their names, they had moved ahead. Outside at the doors of the Sept, the sun shone brightly, illuminating the broken tiles of the steps. The crowd cheered and howled as she stood there. Her guards had already surrounded her, their swords naked if at all anyone tried to harass her. Her husband walked ahead of her, separated by a sea of guards. She was rushed to the bottom of the steps as people grew wilder around her. They shouted ‘savior of the city’ again and again, for her husband, as he waited at the carriages for her. As the waves of people grew stronger, his guards practically shoved people away as Tywin mounted his white war horse. She was thrown into the carriage by Apollo who was walking right behind her, the Acting Head of their Army. Once secure inside the carriage, Andromeda couldn’t help but peek out the window at the unwashed, raggedy faces of the people who lined the dirty streets of the Capital. Their faces like pots, she counted them until the carriage picked up the pace. She drew the curtains then and looked for her husband then. He rode beside the carriage, his mouth shaped into a scowl, his back straight and his head held high. He wore a black surcoat, as he always did. But upon closer inspection, she saw that this one had an intricate embroidery done with red beads. When it caught light, it shone magnificently. It had an irregular collar, that had the motif of a ferocious lion. The pin of the Hand was on his right chest and he wore two large rings, one with an emerald and other with a golden lion. His beard was clipped neatly and his leather boots were black and tall. He looked thoroughly unimpressed and made no efforts to look at his bride as they rode up the winding road to the Red Keep. Andromeda on the other hand, kept glancing at him furtively, hoping to catch him doing the same, but in vain. Behind him, rode the entire regiment of the Lannister Army followed by the Panthyraal Army led by her Father and her brothers. The Golden alliance of the Lion and the Tigress was paraded throughout the entire city.

Lord Tywin did not believe in ostentation. The feast of his wedding said as much. The courses were plenty but there were no dancing dwarves or magicians or maids who spit fire. The feast, like him, was a serious affair. When they reached the feast, the sun hang low casting a golden light on everyone. He led her into the procession and everyone stood up as they entered. Andromeda kept her hand on his arm, but barely touched him as she smiled graciously at everyone and walked up to the head of the tables. On their table, she sat on the left side of Tywin. Beside her, sat her Lord Father, followed by her brothers. On his side of the table, Joffrey sat followed by the vicious Cersei and then Tyrion at the far end of the table. It would seem a bad match to seat Cersei beside Tyrion, but Tywin did not care.

Throughout the feast, as everyone around her got visibly drunk, Andromeda stuck to watery wine. She received every person that came to congratulate them with appropriate respect, but soon it got too overwhelming for her, as scores of men and bedecked women stood in a long line to gain favor of the Lady Lannister. As the music got louder, the crowd grew rowdier. The sun had gone to sleep behind the mountains and the sky was twinkling with the first stars. On her side, her brothers had invited lord Tyrion to sit with them and they now engaged in a game of who could drink the fastest. Her lord husband now stood with her lord father and Lord Kevan, discussing something serious, judging by the looks on their faces. She sat alone on the table, but not for long. A voice startled her. She turned to find Cersei standing behind her with a sweet smile on her face that did not reach her eyes. She stood up and bowed ceremoniously, ‘My queen’.

‘I am not sure what should I call you, Sister or Mother?’ she laughed sweetly then, linking her arm with hers like sisters.

‘You may call me anything you like, my queen, and it will not change who I really am – your father’s wife.’ Andromeda’s face was cheery, but her tone conveyed what her words couldn’t, _that she will not be intimated by her._

At this Cersei’s face turned to stone and she came closer to her, as if to share a secret. Andromeda’s eyes grew wide at the acidic face of Cersei. She purred in her ear, ‘never forget that you are just a girl that my father married because of your father’s coffers. He will never love you; he will never care for you, he will fuck his way through your sweet cunt until you give him a son, and then, and then my dear mother, you will be as good as gone from here. So, cherish these few days and give him what he wants, or else he will take it by force. You will spread your legs for him or he will find other means.’ She said, putting a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Her fingers brought goose bumps on Andromeda’s cheek. And with that thinly veiled threat Cersei kissed her mother on both cheeks lovingly before leaving the feast with a goblet of wine in her hands. Andromeda was nearly shaken with the vitriol that was just spewed on her. She gained her bearings by looking for her brothers, who as if sensing her discomfort, circled around her and tried to make her feel better by doing what they did best, making fun of each other.

~-oOo-~

It was nearing midnight when Tywin escorted Andromeda to their chambers. The moon had risen high on the brink of the sky. As ceremony dictated, she was escorted by her brothers, who would stand guard outside their chambers for the entire night, lest anyone try to disturb the new couple. Andromeda could _feel_ the pride of her brothers as they walked them down to the Tower of the Hand.

_No one was fool enough to demand a bedding ceremony of the Great Lion._ Not even the Boy King could ask for such a request at the risk of losing his own head. Andromeda tried to remember the way to the Tower of the Hand for the most part until it was one turns to many for her to remember. They walked in silence, his steely resolution and her deathly panic made a fine pair. She was too tired, too anxious, and too scared all at once of what was going to follow. Her heart was beating so loud that she was sure her Lord Husband could hear it. But even if he did, his neutral face did not reveal it. His steps were slower than usual, but measured with determination.

She had heard enough from her cousins and Vega to know what happened after the wedding but as the hour drew closer she panicked at never having fully paid attention to the finer details. What if she was unsatisfactory? What if there was something elementary that she did not know? Something so simple that her husband would get so angry that he would never visit their marital bed ever again. After all he had been married before. A man of his experience would surely expect the same from her. Gruesome images crossed her mind as it ran into all directions thinking of absurd ways of how everything could go wrong. As she reached the doors of his bedchambers, she could feel the food coming back up. She gulped repeatedly to avoid vomiting. The image of her vomiting on her Lord Husband’s fine surcoat made her smile involuntarily, if only for a moment.

Her brothers stood outside the door, as she was led inside. Tywin nodded at them, and without a backward glance, he led her inside. Andromeda did not dare look back at them, because she knew that if she did, she would surely whelp. He did not say a single word as he led her through the outer sitting area, through the dining room, through his office directly to his bed chambers. The doors opened, to reveal one of the biggest bedchambers she had witnessed in the Red Keep. There were three windows side by side on one side of the room, opposite to which on the other side a huge stone fireplace boasted a roaring fire. On the windows hung lace curtains, bellowing in the air from the sea. In front of the fire were a set of ornate arm chairs and a deep diwan chair. In the center, pushed to the wall was a canopy bed that so huge that it had a set of stairs to reach it. The four posts were made of thick mahogany wood, polished to a red shine. The canopy was of sheer white lace, hanging loosely over the posts. The bed was lined in fine red velvet trimmings.

In front of the bed was a settee chair of maroon. On it lay a sword belt and other remnants of his life. _Now, her life._ Near the bed towards the windows was a dressing table with a large mirror. The table had drawers and stands on it to hold her jewelry and scarves. The small chair in front of it was of the same material as the other chairs of the room. The roaring fire cast the whole room in a soft golden light, and yet there were two tall candle stands in each corner facing the bed.

_The room emanated the riches that the Great Lion possessed._ The curtains of the windows and the tapestries were all decked with the motif of House Lannister, an angry lion in red and gold. Although it was ornate, it possessed a finer taste, which made the entire room seem polished.

There was something about the lions that made her feel uneasy then. They seemed to surround her. _She felt then like a prey in a den of lions, which she probably had become._ She felt hot, even though the windows were open and there was a breeze flowing in. She suddenly was made aware of the weight of the cloak. Her shoulders ached under the weight of the thick brocade and the name of Lady Lannister. _Lady Lannister. Lady Lannister._ A name so strange, Andromeda could not even say it aloud. Tywin stood by the fire, staring at something in the ambers. His tall frame illuminated by the light. She stood near the bed, trying to unfasten the holdings of the cloak, but to no avail. He saw her struggling silently with the cloak before walking up to her to unfasten the holdings, and that is when she registered how tall he really was. She barely reached his shoulders, facing the King of the Hand pin, she stared ahead as he removed the heavy cloak from her shoulders and draped it over the back of the arm chair.

‘This cloak has been in my family for 5 generations, and every Lady Paramount of the House gets to sew her own to it, thereby ensuring her place in the history of the House. A contribution, of sorts,’ he said with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘It is majestic, my lord’, she said in earnest, to the pin. It became her first line of contact to him. She didn’t know what else to say. She knew her place would never come since his first wife must have already sewn her part into the cloak. She was the second wife, and honors like these are not bestowed upon second wives. She knew about his first wife, his own cousin whom he married for love. She had resisted any more information about her out of spite, as if there was some deep-rooted animosity between them and finding out anything more about her would only bring it forth. She was dead, had been dead for a long time now. There was nothing that she could do to her now, to them. And yet…

Silence was like a cloak between them. They could hear the waves crashing at the bay, the chirping of the grasshoppers and the faint cheers of their wedding feast. Suddenly, she felt his warm palm on her face. She could see his mouth forming words but her ears did not register them. He repeated his words, now mincing them, annoyance apparent. ‘I asked, do you drink?’ A question she did not register until she saw the glass of wine in his hand outstretched towards her.

‘I- I- I do not, unless social convention demands, my lord.’ She hated the tremor in her words. She stood straighter.

‘Now seems a good time as any to start, my lady.’ With this finality, he handed her a glass of wine. She took a deep sip of it. It was full bodied, earthy. She was not used to such a strong wine, but she welcomed it tonight. Anything to calm her nerves. 

‘What did you think of the ceremony?’ he asked casually, one hand holding his glass and the other one behind his back. ‘Surely, you must’ve been accustomed to flashier, more extravagant events in the East.’ His mouth was a straight line, but his eyes held no sharpness.

‘It was a bit somber than I expected, but it had its moments.’ Andromeda looked down at her goblet. The slow swirls of the wine calmed her down. _Or was it his voice?_

‘Well, I guess I shouldn’t have cancelled the dancing bear and the fire girl after all.’

At this she couldn’t help but smile. Was this Lord Tywin’s humor? She was perplexed.

‘Lord Mace Tyrell falling face first into the bushes was also amusing in a way,’ she braved. Her lips were pressed in a smile, as if to gauge his reaction.

At this he let out a short laugh. One where she was confused whether it was sarcastic or earnest. She took one more sip of the wine she had suddenly begun to enjoy. It was warming its way down her throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. _His face changed in a second._ If he was cold before, he had become frigid then. He seemed to lose all the warmth and gained a stone-cold composure. There was a knock again. It seemed urgent. It was his squire Lyol standing outside. He whispered frantic apologies for disturbing him and then delivered a furtive message to him, and closed the doors apologetically.

Tywin seemed confused for a moment, as if he had lost his bearings. He emptied his wine glass in one swig and put it on the side table and then with the cloak of sobriety that hung on his face at all times, informed her, ‘my lady, I apologize but there is something that requires my attention. I have to meet with the Small Council at this moment. You should go to bed, it is late.’ With this, he left on his heels and left Andromeda alone in her marital room for the first time.

It was only after he left that the vastness of the room hit her. Her head had started spinning and she sat on the diwan in front of the fireplace. The cackling of the fire, which would’ve been welcoming any other day was mocking her.

Her throat felt hot and she found it difficult to gulp whatever was coming up. Just as tears were about to well in her eyes, her handmaid Alya rushed in. Surely Lyol must have informed her, for which she was thankful. She was thankful for her silence, and her fast fingers. She helped undo her complicated hair. She brushed her hair and unlaced her out of her wedding dress. Her feet were washed in warm salt water, to alleviate the pain. Her head hurt, and not just from the weight of her hair and all the pins that pulled at her scalp but also from the wine. All of it made her feel light headed. When she finally went to bed, she kept all the candles lit, half out of fear of the dark and half expecting him to return at any moment.

At first, she merely sat on the bed, like an obedient wife. But as minutes trickled into hours, she could not help but lie down, just to straighten her back, a lie she told herself for as soon as her head hit the pillow, she had fallen asleep. The day had been too long, the pillows too soft, the fire too warm, and she couldn’t stop herself from drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

~-oOo-~

It was late when he returned to the Tower of the Hand, probably hours after midnight. In his head there was a thumping ache. Information leaked was the worst epidemic, in his opinion. And that too so close to the royal wedding. Plans have to be changed; trajectories mapped so carefully have to be remapped. _The meeting was all about damage control._ No one expected him to be present for the meeting, Cersei seemed especially surprised to find him in his chair at the head of the table of the Small council. Varys seemed as enigmatic as he did at any other point of the day, his powdered neck however had droplets of sweat. ‘How did neither one of you the know about this?’, he bellowed in anger as soon as they were seated. Baelish had his head cocked like a child being admonished while Cersei gulped more wine. ‘Collectively, you own more spies than the rest of the world combined. Am I to believe that neither one of you had any inkling of the fact that Margery Tyrell is pregnant?’ He stood up in rage. Pacing around he heard an owl hoot, with the rest of the owls sitting silent on his table.

‘Pycelle, how far along is that girl?’ no sooner was that question shot at Pycelle, that the old man began quaking like a bullfrog. He resembled a dying frog then, croaking for his life. Anger was coursing through Tywin’s veins. _Pateince, Tywin, patience._ He clenched his fists now.

‘My-my-my Lord, Lady Margery is 6 weeks heavy with a child, my lord. My- my lord, if I may, if I would’ve been her Maester I would have found out about this within a…’ his voice trailed off at one look from Tywin. _No one would dare squeak in his presence._

All of this seemed very amusing for Tyrion who sat opposite him, smirking in his goblet. ‘I am pleased that all of this is very enjoyable to you Tyrion’, Tywin barked at his youngest. 

‘It is amusing because it is so simple, Father. You worry over nothing. These things happen, and for the general public these things haven’t happened because it is an unfounded rumor. An unfounded rumor that has no basis in reality. Every royal wedding faces these rumors that die down eventually.’ The ease with which Tyrion delivered his statements only fueled Tywin’s ire.

‘Lest you forget Renly Baratheon, Tyrion. The rumors that were associated with him are the reason why Margery Tyrell is being wed to our King.’ Tywin almost spat in anger, but Tyrion seemed unperturbed.

‘Margery Tyrell surely got lucky with this accident of hers. It would have been more difficult to prove that Renly did not consummate their marriage if she would have turned up pregnant two moons ago,’ Tyrion chuckled. No one else dared laugh in Tywin’s presence. No one but Tyrion. Tywin breathed out deliberately.

‘Father, I will not allow my son to get married to that whore now. Getting pregnant by another man two weeks before her wedding, what was she thinking?’ it was Cersei’s time to spit in anger. Tywin rolled his eyes at his daughter’s stupidity.

‘That no one will find out, surely.’ Tyrion retorted cheekily. Tywin stood facing the other side, staring out the window. Outside, far on the horizon, the lamps on the ships could be seen, bobbing without a care in the world. One strand of his thought drifted to his bride, he pushed it away as it only made him more furious. It was all falling out of control like sand from a closed fist.

‘Varys, whose child is this?’ Tywin asked without turning.

‘King Joffrey was seen visiting Lady Margery’s bedchambers frequently in the duration of the last month my Lord. No one else was seen my Lord. It would lead us to believe…’ Varys trailed off as Tywin shot a look at him, his eyes reduced to slits. His jaw was clenched. He was grinding his teeth unconsciously.

‘I do not have time for your riddles Varys. Speak plainly or I shall find someone who will.’ It was not a threat; it was merely a statement. _A statement that would be executed to fruition._

‘The child is King Joffrey’s, my lord.’

‘And you are sure of that Varys?’, his face now cocked to a side, his piercing gaze too difficult to hold. Like every other man, Varys could not keep hold his gaze and dropped his eyes.

‘Yes, my lord, my little birds are never wrong.’ Varys said with a bow. He sighed to himself, relieved, when Tywin shifted his gaze, now focusing on Cersei.

‘It is decided then. The wedding will take place, as soon as possible now.’ He told his daughter, more than anyone else.

Even before Cersei could protest, Tywin shut her down. ‘It is decided. The wedding will take place in 4 days’ time. Baelish, make the necessary changes and meet me tomorrow for further planning. Tyrion will also join us.’ At this Tyrion nodded, happier when he looked at Cersei’s painful face now contorted into a childlike frown. She held the goblet so tightly her knuckles had turned white. If the goblet would’ve been made of glass, the shards would’ve pierced someone’s eyes by now.

‘Meeting adjourned. I suppose it is implicit that anything discussed tonight shall not leave this hall before an official announcement is made by the Crown at the earliest by tomorrow.’ With this, everyone stood up, but Cersei waited, like she did always. Tywin could feel her menacing eyes on him even when he got up to refill their goblets.

When he finally sat down, he looked at her, ‘What is it Cersei?’ He simply had no patience for her games, not after his wedding. 

‘How can you, father? She is a proved wanton whore, how can she marry my son, the King? I will simply not allow it.’ Her jaw clenched just like his. She reminded him so much of her mother sometimes it was scary.

‘There is nothing to allow. It is not your decision to make.’

‘He is my son’, she screamed. She was now playing his game. It was like second nature to him, this game of losing control. He said with a straight voice, the one that invited no second thoughts, ‘...and you are my daughter.’ He looked at her then, watching her anger simmer down in defeat and after she left, he kept sitting in his chair staring at the table. Only after he heard the outer doors bang did he unclench his shoulders.

The torches were almost extinguished. Inside his chambers, the candles were not lit anymore, and the fire was in its ambers now. As he walked in, he felt as if this day had started a moon turn ago. Him getting married was not the biggest event to unfurl, and this thought made him smirk. While he undressed in the dim, he watched her sleep on _his_ side of the bed on _his_ pillows. She hugged a pillow and had pulled the blanket to her shoulders. Her mouth was slightly open. He smiled a little then, as this was exactly how Cersei slept when she was young, hugging a pillow and huddled up in a ball with her knees to her chest. _It was painful to remember the old days, and he tried not to._ He tried to get inside the covers softly so as not to rouse her, but as he finally settled in, she rustled a little, her eyes still closed and faced the other side. Her black hair now covered her pillows as she faced the other side. He was transfixed by her hair that draped over half his arm. He could smell the chamomile and henna of her hair; it was a warm smell of summer that lured him to a deep sleep. _That and all the wine._ _Of course._

~-oOo-~

When he woke up the next morning, it was the brink of dawn. The darkness of the sky had just begun to blot away. The faint crashing of the waves could be heard over the silence that prevailed in the castle. The kitchens and the battlements were sleeping. The first few seconds that he woke, he was back in the battlefield, in a cloth tent whose flaps flapped in the northern wind. He felt cold to his bones, could feel his feet turn to stone. A mere second later he realized _why_. He was not covered in any blankets. He slept completely naked leave his night shirt. He looked behind him to find a ball of blankets that was his lady wife. In the course of the night, she must have pulled all the spreads to her side. _This raised his ire._ He tried to pull the covers to his side, but to no avail. He tugged at the loose end hard, not expecting the ball to unravel _her_ in his arms with the blankets. She rolled out from the other side and faced him now, her arm draped loosely over his chest, her face on his arm and her leg outstretched over his legs. _She draped him like a blanket._ Tightly now, as his body was warm and she craved warmth. He was uncomfortable to say the least.

Decades of living alone had left him bereft of the sensation of being touched, unintentionally, casually, non-sexually. He did not know how to respond to this unfamiliar attack on his private space. Like a cat plotting its next move, he was completely still.

He could push her away, ensuring she never repeats this abhorred behavior ever again. But this would also ensure that she would _always_ remain scared of him. And scared means she will never trust him. _And if she never trusts him, she will be susceptible of being in trust of someone else._ He understood how that would be a tactical mistake for him. A wife that did not trust him and was scared of him could spell all sorts of disloyalty to him in the future. He was not required to love her, or even care for her, but to treat her like his wife was within his role of a husband, in its broadest sense.

So, he let her sleep like that, like a cat sprawled on a warm rock. He watched her for a few seconds. Her mouth was slightly open and her breaths were deep and even. When she slept, her face lost all that pride she so dearly liked to display. It looked as if she had taken off her mask, to reveal an innocent girl underneath, one that must be protected at all costs. She looked younger then; more gullible. Her nose twitched a little when his beard tickled her forehead. But other than that, his wife was in a deep sleep.

He could only succumb to this foreign experience after a while. The realization of the fact that she will possibly have no recollection of this transgression helped him close his eyes at last, if only for a while. He knew he had slept alone for far too long, having forgotten how to share space or lack of space with another person. It took him a while to get comfortable, but once he did, he would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t welcome her warm intrusion on this chilly morning.

_He woke up for the first time in many years without a dull headache._ The sun was dancing on the horizon now. The sounds of the kitchens under him, and the clashing of swords in the barracks could be heard faintly. He opened his eyes to a forest of black. Something had changed again. He found himself wrapped around this girl, who faced away from him now. His head was buried in her hair and his arm was under her chest, resting snug on her belly under the thick blankets. He could feel her heartbeat on his palms. She was pressed onto him, and he suddenly became aware of his hardness on her lower back, way lower.

Hastily, as if the girl’s body was fire, he jumped out of bed. His body ached in response to the pain of being forced out of such a warm and comfortable position so early in the day. For the life of him he could not explain how he had found himself in such a compromising position. His neck felt hot at the memory of where his hand was buried just a moment ago. Like clockwork, Lyol was at the door ready to dress him. Tywin hurriedly walked out, ready to put anything between him and the growing embarrassment in his pants. 

Reassuring himself of the fact that she had not woken by looking back at her, he left hurriedly for his day had just gotten to a strange start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me how you like it guys! ;)


	12. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the wedding. Andromeda has new challenges to face as she settles into her married life. Living with a lion isn't as easy as she had hoped.

Alone. That is all she felt the moment she woke up. As if she was the only one in the entire world, as if she was initially surrounded by warmth and was left in the cold now. Alone. And irritated. It was because of the incessant knocking on her doors, probably Alya, judging by the haste in the knocks. She stood up and walked to the doors, letting her handmaid in, who held a large tray of breakfast food for her, with a pitcher of pomegranate and grape juice.

‘I’m sorry m’lady, I wasn’t trying to disturb you and m’lord. I asked around for Lyol but couldn’t find and it-it-it was getting time for you to get up m’lady so I –so I’ and she trailed off. She always trailed off like this. Andromeda had no patience for it this morning.

‘It is alright, Alya. You have nothing to worry about. It appears as if Lord Tywin did not return to bed yesterday’, she said as a matter of fact, masking the sadness in her words. She deemed herself successful when Alya did not react. After a pause she added, ‘Can you please go and ready my bath and my dress for today? I think I will wear the long purple gown today, the one with the red embroidery on the bagged sleeves. ‘Yes m’lady’ Alya said, knowingly exactly which dress was being referred to.

The sunlight was streaming through the screen of the windows making dancing designs on the floor. She ate a slice of orange as her stomach still felt a bit queasy and watched the ships bobbing on the horizon, getting smaller. She took comfort in the fact that maybe, just maybe, one of those ships would go to Panthyraal. Behind her stood Alya, combing through her wet hair. Andromeda was dressed and the thin gold bangles of her wrists clanged softly as she slipped another slice of orange in her mouth involuntarily.

When she finally walked out of the chambers, she took her time walking down as she was inspecting her future household. In the bright light of the morning, everything seemed more cheerful. The Tower of the Hand had a garden in the center of it and Andromeda chided herself for not noticing anything the previous night. She was pleasantly surprised as she saw the state of the rooms, antechambers and drawing rooms. She expected haunted halls but she found sophisticated taste and none of the gore. Even though all the rooms had the same color scheme, they were tastefully decorated.

As she went out of the chambers, she hoped to find her brothers, but she only found the Lannister cloaks. Dejected, she made course for her father’s chambers.

As she walked, she noticed how everyone acted differently around her. They bowed deeper but mostly, they gaped at her. She was not comfortable with this attention. Even before her marriage to the Hand of the King, she was the centre of the attention with her quadrant of guards around her. Every group huddled in the corner seemed to be gossiping about her. Every smirk, every chortle, as if for her. _At least things were the same in her father’s chambers._

Like any other day, Alizaar sat at the head of the table pondering over papers, and her brothers were getting ready for training. Apollo, who was the tallest, trained with Western long swords, his specialty being the Easter scimitar that was donned by every Tygrosi guard. Archer, who had stocky arms, trained in archery, which was a little on the nose, even for him. His father told everyone how before Archer was born, their mother dreamt of him being blessed by Aa’rs, the God of archery. He could not walk straight, but his arrows were always on the mark, even when he was barely 4. Aster, who was a poet at heart and the closest to Andromeda, trained in spears and hand combat. He had the bulkiest body, a thick neck but the softest heart.

Even as they donned their armors, Andromeda couldn’t help but be amazed at how different they looked despite being identical at birth. She was close to all three of them, being just over a year older than them. When they were children, they were inseparable. They spent whole days together sparring and riding horses by the river. But as they grew up, they were forced to be apart. Andromeda was taught how to be a lady, while the boys were taught how to be great warriors. Andromeda never understood why she was subjected to this discrimination, but over the years she had made her peace with it. 

At breakfast, she could sense hesitation in her father’s voice. He kept glancing at her, as if he was trying to make sure she was well. _But he did not ask, and she did not tell._ Not that there was anything to tell. How could she tell him that nothing had happened? That she was left alone and she had slept well, probably the best sleep since arriving to King’s Landing? So she kept her silence, but smiled reassuringly at her father, hoping it would be enough.

After breakfast, she accompanied her brothers to the training barracks. She sat on the wooden rows and watched the pits of men clashing swords and shouting slurs. She felt as if nothing had changed. It was as if she had not just married one of the most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms. It was as if she was an Eastern maiden, and if any moment a certain golden knight might join her. She pushed his thoughts out of her mind and focused on Apollo. She had not seen her husband since last night when he left her alone on their wedding night. Andromeda had been scared of being mistreated, mishandled, forced around. She had heard stories of how some husbands forced themselves on their wives. How some of them even beat their wives. And she was not stupid enough to not realize that it happened mostly when the husband was older, like in her case. But she hadn’t expected this sort of _mistreatment_. ‘I suppose that is how it is to be married to someone so powerful. To be left alone on your wedding night in service of the realm.’, she said to herself. _She was not angry; she had no right to be._ But she was not relieved either, that he had left her alone, which she _ideally_ should have felt. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of annoyance when she thought of him. Despite being her husband, her lord paramount, he was awfully absent from her married life, even if it was barely one day old. 

After their training sessions, her brothers were rowdier. Their pride visible on their faces, like the sweat, as they bested every warrior of King’s Landing. They made more jokes, most of them aimed at their closest target: her.

‘I am sure our dear brother-in-law found you satisfactory, since we didn’t hear the Rains of Castamere this morning’, said Apollo.

‘And that all of us did not turn up dead,’ added Aster.

‘Sincerely sister, how great was the lion? Did he roar all night?’ at this, all three of them toppled over their chairs in laughter. Andromeda couldn’t help but laugh herself. She laughed at the irony of it all. How could she tell her brothers that he hadn’t even been with her on their wedding night? That he hadn’t even slept with her on their marital bed?

‘How was sparring with the Hand?’

‘I am sure you must have spent the night hammering nails and sawing wood.’

At this Apollo spit out some of his wine. It was Andromeda’s time to laugh now. The afternoon sun shone through the leaves of the trees like a broken mirror. The leaves made pretty patterns on the fabric of her dress. The laughter of her brothers rang like bells through the corridors and gardens of the Tower of the Hand. ‘And I’m sure- but Aster couldn’t finish his joke. He stood up far too fast. Behind him like little soldiers followed Apollo and Archer. The smiles had been wiped off their faces. Andromeda sat facing them and just as she was about to turn, she felt two hands on the back of her chair, and with them the voice of their owner. 

‘Pardon me for interrupting your soiree, I see you are having a little luncheon together’, his words were polite but something in his tone gave them the feeling of being caught in a mischief. Like little children caught by their father making a mess in the kitchens. She cringed inwards on comparing her husband to her father.

‘Yes, we just came back from training, and-’ before Apollo could mumble further, Andromeda cut him swiftly.

‘-And it was my idea to have lunch here in the Tower, I wanted to show them my new chambers and I-’, Andromeda did not know why she was explaining herself. She should not be explaining herself. She had as much right to the Tower as his rightful wife. She felt a ball of anger rising in her belly.

‘It is quite alright. I just wished to discuss some things with you, alone, so if you may please follow me.’ He said pointing towards the stairs. With this Andromeda felt a pull on her chair and she was escorted with Tywin to the solar. She could feel the eyes of her brothers on them as they climbed the stairs to the solar, which was incidentally in the same direction as their bedchambers.

While she followed him up the stairs, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was about to be punished for a crime. What crime, she was not aware of. She knew she had done nothing wrong, but who would dare explain this to the Great Lion, who walked swiftly in front of her. She couldn’t see his expressions but if his back was any indication, it looked angry. The shoulder blades moved as he walked with determination, which is how he always preferred to walk. Once inside the solar, he offered her a seat in front of his desk and presumed his seat behind it. Andromeda felt as if she was about to be punished, or worse, expelled from the Tower. It also made her furious, because she was the one who was supposed to be angry. _The tension in the bright solar was palpable._

Tywin looked at the papers on his desk, letters and reports that required his ministration. Even in periphery, his authority was unquestioned. Andromeda sat silently, in fear of what would happen if she dared interrupt him. They sat in silence for a few minutes. She began to think if he brought her upstairs just so she could not sit with her brothers. _That thought made her angrier._ She began fidgeting in her seat, not daring however to walk away. Tywin was poured in his work, drafting a seemingly important letter.

‘There has been a development,’ he finally said without lifting his eyes. ‘The wedding of King Joffrey and Lady Margery had to be rescheduled for an earlier date. It shall now take place day after tomorrow.’ His dictation was devoid of any emotion.

‘May I ask what is the reason for this?’ she asked, taken by surprise. Royal Weddings were seldom moved up, as far as she remembered.

‘You may, and the reason is this. Lady Margery is expecting a child. This information must not leave this room. At any costs. For everyone outside the Royal family, the wedding has been rescheduled due to the poor health of Lady Margery’s grandmother, Lady Olenna.' Tywin paused for a moment, expecting more questions. When she did not ask any, he proceeded further.

'I hope you understand the gravity of the situation.’ Tywin looked at her directly then. His eyes were piercing into her soul and she couldn’t help but nod when words escaped her. The words were heavy with implications.

‘Any questions?’ he returned to his work now, having found her response adequate.

Andromeda did not know what to ask. She knew that asking who the father was simply not an option. Lord Tywin was the last man anyone would trade gossip with. The image of her sitting with Tywin in a nook trading gossip and giggling conjured in her mind, making her laugh out loud. Before Tywin could notice however, she coughed overtly to cover the laugh. The absence of any change in his posture told her she coughed well enough.

Should she ask a question to show that she was listening? But then it could also be construed as her meddling in the affairs of his family and the State. But if she didn’t want to be taken as a fool by her husband. _A fool and a mute._ There were wives who would never talk to their husbands, whose only responses were ‘As you wish’ and ‘As it please you’. _She would not be one of them._ On the other hand, Tywin was not like most husbands. Whereas the balance of authority between the husband and the wife is leveled, in their marriage, Tywin held the most power. His age and his position had made him not only the most powerful man in the seven kingdoms but also in their marriage. Being younger than her Lord Father, he was still double her age, giving him an undue upper hand in their marriage. _Being the Hand of the King didn’t help either._ Andromeda was however adamant to change this. If he was the Great Lion, she was also a Tigress. She would not succumb to the lion without a fight.

She must tread carefully. ' Since the wedding is about to take place in two days, what ceremonies shall be dispensed with?' Her face was curious, even empathetic, not showing the tiny cogs that worked in her brain.

'A good question', he looked at her briefly, before setting his eagle- feather quill down and bringing both his hands to rest on the table. 'Let’s see, the tourney has been cancelled, and so is the bachelor's banquet, with good reason. The offerings of alms shall be offered after the wedding. The Good-father's Feast is to be held tonight, and the wedding is day after tomorrow.'

Andromeda nodded slowly, 'and what about the visit to the Sept?' with every banal question she asked, she made Tywin take notice of the one question she could not ask. 

'Well, Lady Margery will have to visit the Sept on her wedding day itself. This ceremony is also cancelled.' The finality in his voice indicated that Tywin would not be entertaining any more questions. For now, the power remained with him. _The tigress was however not rebuffed._

Tywin looked at her then, and even though his expression hadn’t changed even a bit, she knew it was time for her to leave. _Such was his authority._ Andromeda thanked him politely for informing her about this change in events, though her face was not beaming like it was when he had found her downstairs with her brothers. She felt like his handmaiden, who was just dismissed. But the reality was worse, she was his foreign wife who he did not trust an ounce, nor believed her to be his advisor, who was to be informed the barest of details possible. This made her feel insulted and there was a dull fury rising in her spine as she walked out, without affording a look behind her. She let the doors of the solar close behind her with a bang. The bang of the door made her feel a little better.

She walked swiftly towards her chambers, her flowy dress bouncing at her heels. She did not dare look behind him. She kept her back straight and walked with resolution towards her chambers, where she would promptly fall on the bed, catching her breath. She was thankful he could not see her. She could almost imagine him scoffing at her frailty. 

~-oOo-~

The sun had just set and the air in the halls was heavy with the smell of the jasmine flowers that had bloomed at the fall of dusk in the gardens. The windows were open and the air of the ocean made the curtains billow. The loud music of the South accompanied with the boisterous laughter that erupted every few seconds made the feast a happy one, as opposed to the somber affair it would have been had it been a Lannister affair. Not that Andromeda was complaining. She sat by Lord Tywin at the high table, with Lord Tyrion by her side, enjoying the silent company of her companions.

The Good Father’s Feast was a customary banquet held before the wedding by the Father-in-law of the groom. Lord Mace Tyrell however incapable in his personal capacity, had managed to organize a scrumptious feast for the groom, the Boy King. The ducks were glazed in honey, and the potatoes were mashed with bacon and butter. There were roasted peacocks and swans, feathers and all, and venison steak, along with what she only could hope was camel meat. The finest Arbor wine flowed freely and the pickled pears, oranges and peaches never stopped.

It was exquisite, to say the least. There were large platters of salmon, trout, pike, lobsters and oysters arranged in the shape of a crown and a rose on every table. Pies made of apples, plums, raspberries, and strawberries were served as dessert.

Andromeda had not attended a more splendid feast. The Tyrells had not failed to impress the Realm with their wealth and fertile produce. Andromeda lost track of the dishes that were served to her one after the other. Her dress, that was made of loose spun silk and lace was beginning to feel tight at her abdomen. Her husband stuck to a diet that consisted of pears, cheese and smoked turkey. He drank nothing but watered wine all evening, to keep his sharp. Tywin sat next to Lord Mace Tyrell, who could not stop gushing over him about the wedding. If her husband was irritated, he hid it well.

She was reminded of her wedding feast then, how silent they both sat then, like they did now, how uninterested Tywin seemed then, like he did now. Andromeda fixed her attention elsewhere, to a sharp voice on her right.

‘My lady, you look exquisite tonight’, said Tyrion, visibly drunk yet holding it well.

‘Thank you, my lord, you too look charming’, she said turning towards him. He bowed in response. She noticed how Tyrion was also eating smoked turkey and pears. ‘You seem to be enjoying the feast’, she added glancing towards his full glass of wine, not his first one either.

‘I am enjoying this grand affair. Lord Tyrell has spared no expense. Did you try the peacock’s beak my lady, that’s where the flavor resides, as they say.’ Tyrion’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. She chuckled. Tyrion was pointing to Lord Marbrand, who was struggling with the beak of a peacock. Andromeda crinkled her nose at the unfortunate sight.

‘No, I prefer claw over beak,’ she added without missing a beat.

‘Such a gripping taste, is it not?’, this quip made Andromeda laugh. Tyrion too, seemed to be enjoying it. He added, ‘The cooks really nailed the peacock.’ Andromeda was laughing in her glass now, so as to not seem rude.

‘Pray tell, Lady Andromeda, how is it being married to my father?’ He asked loudly, against the blaring of the trumpets. Tyrion’s serious question took her by surprise. He then reminded her of her husband.

‘I am enjoying that grand affair too.’ It was Tyrion’s turn to laugh now.

‘And, have you met my sister, the Queen?’ he sneered. Andromeda had heard first hand from Tyrion how Cersei had treated him over the years.

‘The Queen has spared no expenses,’ was her short reply. Tyrion nodded in response. He then leaned towards her, as if telling her a secret. She leaned in too.

‘The trick, my lady, to dealing with my sister is to grab her by the claws.’ Andromeda nodded knowingly. They chortled and separated. She was feeling better than she had in a long time. Talking to her old friend reminded her of simpler times. Happier times.

‘Would it be more appropriate to call you Mother now?’, Tyrion said returning to his sarcastic self.

‘Only more appropriate for me to call you my sweet little son, is it not?’ Andromeda was thoroughly enjoying this banter.

‘Oh! Let it be Lady Andromeda. To hell with propriety. You will always remain my friend first,’ with this he clinked his glass to hers and took a large swig of the wine. Andromeda followed him. ‘But really, I must confess. When my father told me he was getting remarried, I thought he was getting married to Lady Olenna. As it is, we do have a close affinity to the Tyrells’, he said gesturing towards the Tyrells, who had now begun dancing in a line of sorts. Their hands were intertwined with each other and every few beats, they skipped together. Andromeda scoffed at this Southern frolicking. Amongst the short Tyrells shone a tall boy with a crown on his head. Joffrey seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the dance with his wife-to-be, a gorgeous, slender girl with a crooked smile. Her dress hugged her figure and left little to imagination with its scanty material. She was smiling warmly at everyone around her, and when she caught Andromeda’s eye, she smiled warmly at her too, which Andromeda returned with a nod. They danced like a truly happy couple, young and in love. It pained her to see a girl her age having such fun before her wedding. She glanced at her husband and found that he had left the table and was now standing with Lord Marbrand and the Lord Commander of the Lannister forces.

‘You, of course, have been a sweet surprise to us all. When I met you, circumstances pointed to a _different_ direction. Not to say that I am not happy with your marriage.’ Tyrion broke her attention away from Margery Tyrell. ‘Though I am sure, marrying my Lord Father must have come as a surprise to you too.’

‘Oh! A very big one. When my father informed me that I was to marry a handsome Lannister, my mind went straight to you. You can only imagine my disappointment when I found out it was your Lord sire instead.’ Andromeda’s cheeky retort earned a laugh from Tyrion. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company. Having never seen her Lord Husband laugh, she imagined him laugh like Tyrion too.

‘Yes, I am reputed for my beauty in the Seven Kingdoms, just like my dear brother is reputed for his patience.’ The reference to his brother’s abduction was dicey, but it made Andromeda chuckle all the same. The memories of Jaime seemed so distant now, but she chose not to reply under the circumstances.

‘It’s a shame he is somewhere in the Neck tied to a horse. He would have loved to be here, in the thick of it. A lot of things would have been different…’ It was a talent of Tyrion to walk on a tightrope of controversial subjects. He would say something offensive and then swiftly cover it with something funny. To decipher his true words was a task that Andromeda was enjoying thoroughly because she had an inkling that beneath it all, he was not a bad man.

‘Well, it is getting too loud for me here. And by “loud” I mean the laughter and the trumpets, and not the dancing at all’, he said gesturing vaguely towards the dancers’ group that was growing in number. They now covered almost the entire hall, and the remaining people who were sitting on tables had been pushed to the sides. ‘I have been brought up to hate laughter of any sort, and such a high dose of it is almost fatal to us. I must take your leave, Lady Andromeda.’ He said getting off of his chair and bowing to her. ‘It has been a pleasure to talk to you as always, be well Lady Mother. And remember, you will always have a Lannister friend.”

He smiled once at her and left the table. He waddled out the halls, where he was joined by a scruffy looking tall man with black hair who gave him a skin, from which Tyrion drank deeply as he disappeared into the dark. She sat for a while in silence, watching her brothers dance with beautiful girls. Two of them seemed to be Tyrells and one was, wait, that was Sansa Stark. She recognized Sansa from her unmistakably red Tully hair and her pale skin. Sansa Stark was spinning with Apollo who seemed to be completely enamored by her. Andromeda made a mental note of it, to tease him later. She wished to join them, but no one asked her for a dance, not even her brothers who usually rescued her every time she was stuck in these boring feasts as soon as they can. And the image of her husband leading her to a dance was comical, in the least. Tywin was now in deep talks with Lord Mace and Lord Kevan, and had not paid any heed to her throughout the feast.

After one more glass of wine, when the music had grown too loud for her, Andromeda left her seat at the table to get a breath of fresh air. As soon as she left the sitting area, that had now turned into a dancing area, she felt the calm spread over her. Tall, billowing curtains hid the stairs to go upstairs and with every step, the noise and the flash of the feast were left behind. There were fewer torches, there was a warm darkness that was welcomed. The people who stood here, did not talk loudly, she heard whispers as shapes moved around her. The solitude that darkness brought calmed her immensely.

She nearly gasped as encountered a couple in a dark corner. They had their arms wrapped around each other. It made her blush. Her cheeks and neck felt hot as she walked straight ahead, allowing the couple their privacy. She thought about the thrill that comes from being so promiscuous in the middle of the feast, the urgency of it all, the passion that must have stirred between them, the wandering hands, ripped fabric, the kisses in the dark that missed their mark, the moans stifled in the body of the other.

She walked faster until she faced the ocean. She kept her glass on the ledge and took a deep breath. The ocean air filled her lungs, as it filled her dress, cooling the sweat drops that had pooled in the little of her back. She leaned on the ledge, trying to see the place where the sea ended and the walls of the Keep began. It was too dark for her to see, so she bent forwards, her elbows on the ledge. In the far left, the clouds had gathered. The air was heavy with moisture. It was about to rain. There was a silence on land, the way everything stands still as the sky breaks. The water on the other hand, lashed, angry and restless. She was transfixed at a rock in the sea. A wreckage of the Battle of Blackwater bay. She was mesmerized by the lapping of the waves on it repeatedly. The wave broke on it and leapt over it, spraying water. It was incessant. She thought then of the couple in the dark. The incessance of their embrace. Their repeated movement. She was lost in rhythm of the ocean.

‘Would it be easier if I were to push you, my lady?’ The lazy voice behind her was like a rock that broke her wave. She turned and stared at the tall figure behind her, her hands rested behind her on the ledge. Her husband stood close to her; the tip of his boot touched the tip of her sandals. He stood so close that she could smell his perfume. He smelled heavily of cedar and oud. It was intoxicating to stand in the envelope of his warm scent.

‘My lord, I- I am sorry, I didn’t see you there,’ she apologized to his tunic. She could feel him staring at her, even though his face was pitch black. The only part that was illuminated was his chest and his neck, so that’s where she kept her eyes at. _Her first line of contact._

He then did a strange thing, he lifted his hand to keep his glass on the ledge, beside hers. In doing so, he surrounded her body with his arms, and along with his arm, edged his face closer to her face, while reaching for the ledge. This movement, though had lasted for only a couple of moments, made her heart beat faster. His face was illuminated as he bent towards her. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were a straight line. He seemed to be staring at her lips, and as she heard the glass touch the stony ledge, he was brought out from his trance. He came closer to her, forcing her to take a step back. Her body against the ledge, he planted both his hands on either side of her body, trapping her. She could do nothing but stare up at him, as he released his breath, which was hitched in his throat. She too exhaled slowly. His lips were parted and taunting her to look up at him, and look she did.

She faced his throat, and she saw him gulp the breath that was hitched in his throat. She looked up at him, to find him looking at her intently. His large eyes were narrowed, but there was no anger in his face. It was as if time had slowed for her. Inching her nose closer to his neck, she breathed in his smell. Andromeda had closed her eyes. She was breathing in the scent of this man who stood so close to her, he covered her entirely. _Her husband’s scent._

Tywin had said something then, breaking her reverie. Andromeda thought she was being scolded for overstepping her bounds, and she leaned away from him in fear, as if he was fire.

He had simply asked her about her home. She told him then, in bits and pieces, about her home. She told him about the weather, how it was hotter and more humid than King’s Landing, she told him about swimming in the River Tygris during summers and eating stolen mangoes in groves. With every memory scratched, the heavy stone in her throat grew and when she uttered Vega’s name, that stone rendered her speechless. She could feel tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She turned away, facing the ocean again. _No one but the ocean would see her cry._

She wiped away the solitary tear that had flowed from her eye, and took a deep breath. She was not about to cry in front of the Lannisters. She would not give them the satisfaction of looking at a broken tiger. She gulped some more ocean air and steadied herself. Her body felt weak then. _This was too painful._ Vega’s memories burned her too much. She did not speak about her, because she knew the moment she would say something, she would come undone.

She closed her eyes, and let the salty air take her away from here. Just then, she felt long fingers on her shoulders. Two thumbs were pressing the nobs on the base of her exposed neck. She was about to protest when her mouth was left open. His warm hands and his thumbs were massaging the knots away from her shoulders. His thumbs made circles on her shoulder blades and then pressed rhythmically until they reached her spine. Andromeda let herself be taken away by his warm touch on her skin.

Tywin did not say a word; this was his way of comforting her. He was simply too familiar with the ache of home. He had left his home so long ago that his ache was dull now. But remembered the day when he had to leave his newborn children to serve at King’s Landing. He remembered those nights too well, when he cried himself to sleep because he missed his family too much. Just like Andromeda, he had to stay in King’s Landing, to fulfil his duty. And never had he, like this foreign girl, shed a tear in front of anyone. They were alike in this matter. Their outward strength was alike.

What he could not say with his words, he said with his touch, that it will be okay. _It will be okay._ With every press on her soft back, he wanted to reassure her, _that it will be okay._ When his thumbs met at her spine, he simply lay his hands flat on her shoulders, holding her. He knew he could not do more than this. He could not bring her childhood home back to her. He held her and hoped this was enough. _She knew it was._

After what seemed like ages, Tywin said in a low voice, ‘it is late, we should be going, my lady.’

The walk to their chambers was a short one, but Andromeda was so tired that she felt as if she had been walking since ages. Tywin noticed it too, since he felt her leaning on his shoulders most of the way. He chuckled to himself, not remembering the last time he had escorted a sleepy maiden to her chambers.

Once inside their chambers, Andromeda called for her handmaid to dress her for bed. She walked sleepily, her shoulders slouching and her feet dragging. Tywin went to his solar, to prepare for tomorrow. However tired he may be, he would never sleep without first preparing for the next day. He worked till it was well beyond midnight. The crickets were chirping loudly when he finally got up from his desk.

When he walked in the bedchamber, he found her sleeping. The hearth was crackling and the candles were snuffed out. The orange glow of the fire made her hair glow red. She was covered in a furry blanket, only the river of her hair spilled out on the pillow. Her palm was peeking out too, outstretched in front of her face. He took off his clothes, silently so as to not rouse his wife, and got under the blankets. Under the blankets, he found her arm outstretched well into his side of the bed. He slowly pushed it away slightly irritated by her invasion. He would’ve been more furious, if she would have been awake. He was tired of these games now, his ire rising, he flanked her arm aside, but was secretly relieved when she did not wake up.

If while awake Andromeda was the embodiment of politeness, in her sleep, she became insolent. She kicked liberally and her arms flayed around frequently. Tywin had to push away the foreign girl many times, different parts of her too. Once it was a leg, the other time a knee, and the other time it was an elbow. In the end, he just gave in. He let her go wherever she wanted. He simply faced the other side and dozed off. 

But no one could explain why when she woke up in the morning, she was wrapped around the side of Tywin. Her leg over his leg and her arm sprawled over his wide chest. Tywin lay on his back, his arm stretched out on which Andromeda was resting her head. _An image of marital bliss, that sent shivers down her spine._ She was cuddling the Great Lion, against her will. She pushed herself away from him and went as far away as the bed could allow. She curled up in a ball away from his grasp, looking at him from under the covers, as if he would pounce at her at any given moment, shredding her to pieces.

When he did nothing of that sort, she slowly edged towards him. She was fascinated by her sleeping husband. He was naked in their bed, and watching his broad chest fall and rise made her blush. The hair on his chest were golden like the hair of his beard. His arms were muscular, well-shaped and long. In his sleep, the lines on Tywin’s face disappeared. It was then that she noticed that his face was truly beautiful. His eyes were big, his nose sharp and his lips were shapely. He looked like a child then, save his beard. She could see the resemblance between Tywin and his daughter, they both had high cheekbones and a narrow nose. When asleep, all the anger was washed away from his face. He looked like his moniker, a Great Lion that was sleeping. Andromeda edged closer, now within the reach of his arm. She was curled up on her side, facing her husband. With the passing of every minute, she could not take her eyes away from this man. Finally, she did it. _She touched him._

She could not resist it any longer. It was like an itch that was begging to be scratched. She touched his flank, the part closest to her. She lightly trailed a finger across the length of it, until the blanket stopped her journey. When he did not react, she resumed her expedition. She lightly trailed her fingers, barely touching his body, over the left side of his chest. That touch, earned her goosebumps on his body. She was fascinated by how even in his sleep, his body reacted to her touch. _Tywin however, seemed fast asleep._ She then coursed her journey over his outstretched arm, going back and forth on his forearm, drawing circles. _Andromeda grew bolder._ She moved her hand from his shoulder to the side of his face. Her light fingers coursing through his beard. She pressed her palm on his cheek and scratched under his chin, like you would a cat. When she did so, Tywin moved his head and gave in to her touch. He seemed to be enjoying her ministrations, moving his head according to her touch. This made Andromeda smile. Her husband liked her touch. She was reminded of her cats then, how they too moved their faces when she pet them. She was about to scratch his beard, when like a bolt of lightning, Tywin opened his eyes.

He blinked a few times, disoriented, adjusting to the light in the room, until his green eyes focused at this creature who was staring at him. In the morning light she resembled a cat. He was puzzled by this act of hers, sitting so close to him, staring at him. If he didn’t know any better, he would guess that she was about to kill him. That was until he gained consciousness over his entire body, and felt her little hand on his cheek. His irritation turned to pure indignation then. Anger bubbling in him like boiling water in a kettle, he pulled her hand away from his face and pinning it to the far side of the bed, pulling the cat with her. She was sprawled over him, her wrist in his hand not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to hold her there. Tywin could feel her heart beating from where she lay on his chest. The fabric of her smock was thin and he could also feel the full weight of her breasts on his chest.

Her face went pale as milk as he muttered in a low voice, ‘My lady, I have killed for less.’ Not an idle threat, it was simply a statement, spoken so. She gulped in response.

Andromeda felt as if these were her last moments, Lord Tywin’s hold on her wrist seemed to be squeezing the life out of her. Her breath was hitched in her throat. She simply stared wide eyed at the man, blinking like a fool. Until after a few moments, when Tywin’s eyes did not seem to lose their intensity, she garbled a string of words that sounded something like an apology. Tywin let go of her wrist then, and Andromeda yanked herself away from his body, the naked body of her husband.

She sat at the farthest corner of the bed, not as a sign of protest or annoyance, but to give the Great Lion as much space as was possible. She sat with her knees close to her chest, her arms around her, facing the hearth, that had snuffed out long ago. The ashes and the burnt wood were the most interesting things for her to look at. She dared not look in his direction, even though she could hear movement from his side of the bed. With every moment, the fear of being struck elevated until she could not help herself and turned to look at him. _If she was about to die, she will die with dignity._ But it seemed her death was not scheduled for this morning, since her Lord Husband had left the bedchamber. She finally exhaled for the first time in what seemed like years and unclenched her jaw. Her shoulders dropped and she breathed in and out. Putting her head in her hands, she could not stop the tears that were streaming down her face. Her response to fear had been delayed, it seemed, as her body was shivering now to a threat that had long passed. Maybe it was her body’s way of realizing the magnitude of danger to be dangling in a den of lions.

But even in her grief she was not left alone for too long as her handmaidens babbled in, already fussing about her being late for the day. It was not even mid-morning yet as she walked to the chambers of her father, since her husband had apparently left the Tower a whole hour ago, either busy with the duties of the Royal Wedding or unbothered to meet his wife for breakfast.

Andromeda had never felt this alone.


	13. King Joffrey's Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Joffrey gets married. Other more important events transpire. Andromeda and Tywin learn to live with each other as the shadow of doubt over their unconsummated marriage disappears.

Tywin’s eyes scanned lazily around the Sept. The Royal Wedding. He scoffed to himself as he saw the ranks of jam-packed lords and ladies in the Sept. The incessant murmur of the crowd was driving him on edge. Or was it the oppressive heat? He glanced at the tall painted windows that seemed to reach the sky, and saw the dark clouds. _It will rain tonight._ He walked down the aisle and around him people silenced. _Such was his presence._ Normally, what would have calmed him, the nervous silence that followed him wherever he went; today it mocked him. _It raised his ire._ And then, he spotted her.

She was standing with her brothers. _Ofcourse, the Panthyraals. Always making a show of their familial togetherness._ As he started walking closer to the dais, he spotted something strange. His son was standing along with her. _And what does he want with her, that lecherous stump._ From what he briefly saw, for he did not allow his eyes to linger over her for more than a moment, she was wearing a long red dress, and her hair was tied up, as was appropriate. _Although he hoped she had left her hair open._ She was laughing at something Tyrion had said, and it took everything Tywin had to restrain himself from twisting his son away from her. Even though Tywin knew that no one had the gall to laugh at him, their laughter stirred the coil of anger in his belly, and he swiftly walked past them, throwing them a look so dirty, they were immediately hushed. _As was appropriate, for the ceremony was about to start._

Even though he had noticed her when he was at the large doors of the Sept, he did not acknowledge her presence till he was at the head of the Sept. When he did look at her, he found her engaged in a playful banter with his son, and that raised his ire again. It was as if she was choosing Tyrion over him, and that transgression made him furious. _But she wasn’t, and he knew, which made him furious at himself._ The harps began playing their divine music then, a sign that the ceremony was about to begin. Tywin breathed deeply, letting some of the anger dissipate in the tall air of the Sept. His mind started focusing on the wedding then, the premature Royal Wedding of his grandson. 

Tywin stood in the first line, as was customary, beside Cersei and Tommen. When he felt her brush past him to stand beside him, he stood up taller, trying hard not to notice her presence. Even though he was observing her solely through his peripheral, he could see how beautiful she looked. _Ofcourse._ When he looked at his feet, he could spot the hem of a red skirt, on which golden lions were embroidered. _She was wearing his colors._ _His sigil._ It only made him feel worse. Soon, the entire Sept was packed and Tywin could pull his mind away from her. 

The entire choir began singing as Joffrey took his place at the top of the stairs in front of the High Septon. Even when he stood still, Tywin noticed how his grandson twitched in false pride. _Like a dog with ticks._ Tywin’s belief was reaffirmed then, _this boy will not be able to rule._ He had seen enough mad kings to recognize one more. 

When the ceremony began, he felt her presence the most. Their own wedding only a few days ago, shone brightly in his mind. Their marriage, unconsummated, danced in the shadows of his mind. She was like a waterfall, clandestine and unmistakable. As if it was some sort of reminder of how she was his wife. _Now and forever._ A foreign girl from a foreign land now stood with his bloodline wearing his colors and his sigil. A mere stranger, who was now tied to him and his legacy, _forever._ He was reminded of his vows then. _I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days._ While Tywin understood the importance of these words as being merely cursory, the scene of that morning stood in harsh light. He chastised himself for losing his composure over his _wife_. He had made a tactical mistake of such proportion that he himself could not believe who he was at that time. _Purely tactical._ Tywin hated anger. He hated who he became when anger took over him. Reckless, uncontrolled, volatile. These were the traits that he had spent years controlling. He was not a green boy who would be easily bridled with a stroke of anger. He was a man, and anger to him was a tool he used to prey on others. But mistakes had been made by him that day, for which he had avoided her since.

Firstly, she was not just _any_ girl. She was the daughter of Lord Alizaar, and her father was the principle reason why all of their heads were not on a spike. Her father had the largest army, now that so much of Lannister army was spent in the recent wars. And with the largest army, her father held a large supply of grains and produce, second only to the Tyrells. Even an idiot would understand the implications of this marriage. It was clear to the Panthyraals and the Lannisters, on who needed this alliance more, and this knowledge held all the power. _She held all the power._ And yet he had pushed her out of their bed like a common whore who had tried to steal a kiss from him.

Secondly, she was his _wife_. He had married her, after all these years alone when he could have had anyone as his partner, solely because she was _precious_. And like a fool, Tywin in one stroke had pushed the gem off the table into the dirt. He, of all, knew, and knew well, the importance of a cooperative marriage. If he did not cultivate trust with his own wife, she would play him like a fool. And this rift had only increased the probability of that happening. Infinitely. 

He had made it very hard for her to come closer to him. And coming closer was required if she is to bear children for him. _Obviously._ That morning was an obvious misstep. Him avoiding her entirely for the next day was another one. Tywin would never incur such a loss, if only he was not stirred by something stronger.

When he had woken up, for a few moments, it felt as if Joanna was in the bed with him, and when he opened his eyes to find that foreign girl, he could not help but lash out. He was not angry at the girl because she touched him, he was angry at the world because even for a moment, he was with Joanna again, and that was taken away from him, again, as soon as his eyes focused on her. She became a vessel then, unto which he vomited all of his poison. And now, even looking at her was painful. So, he didn’t, he focused at Margery, who was walking down the aisle. 

It was not her fault, for not being Joanna, but in his mind, he punished every woman that tried coming close to him for not being her, including this foreign girl. As everyone clapped at the kiss of the young couple, Tywin couldn’t help but see Joanna in the white dress, even if it was for a moment. And as soon as that image turned to dust, his ire returned. He would never stop punishing the world for taking her away from him. _Never._

If Andromeda was upset, she hid it well. Tywin had known how fickle a young woman’s mind could be, and it was all he had from stopping her from causing a debacle. He would not let a young girl flick the castle of cards he had stacked over decades. _No woman would make him appear weak._ Not again will he ever let the Lannister name be mucked in the dirt by a foreign woman. This line of thought took him to the image of his father’s mistress in open court. _Enough._ He chastised himself, forcing his mind to focus on the present.

Even after the end of the ceremony, Andromeda did not leave his side. She walked alongside him as they were greeted by the Lords and the Ladies of the Realm. _She came back ever resilient._ Andromeda carried herself with an air of a dutiful wife. Her hand was wrapped around his arm, for everyone to see. _Dutiful._ She smiled warmly at him, as if to vitiate the intensity of Tywin’s unsmiling eyes. _Charming._ She laughed easily at flat jokes of the other lords and looked at him with admiration when he spoke. _Smart._ It was then that Tywin was hit with the realization that, in some aspects, _his young wife was wiser than he was._ And this made him feel sheepish. She played her part well; her part of a charming young wife. She was smart enough to understand, without him telling her, that the image that they portray now will cement the future of their legacy. And for this, Tywin felt worse. 

Years of operating alone had rendered Tywin sorely out of practice of the art of moving together as a couple. He seemed to walk too fast at times, his big steps not matching her dainty ones. He felt clunky and clandestine steering his wife through the crowd. He often forgot to stop when she was addressed, leaving her awkwardly stretched in the middle of the path. He did not include her in any conversations, and when she was talking to others about him, he did not listen too well. But all these blunders were smoothened by her _warm persona_. No one seemed to notice their awkwardness, they only seemed to be stirred about their newness. They walked after the newlywed couple, as was customary, and he was perplexed at how many people were staring at them, _instead of the newlyweds._ Andromeda used this to their advantage; she picked a piece of lint from his sleeve, drawing his attention to it as well, making it seem as if they were whispering something to each other. Tywin was surprised then at how intelligent she was. She had subtly orchestrated a moment, invoking louder cheers from the crowd. Satisfied with herself, she waved at the crowd once before the climbing in the carriage, sending the crowd mad. _Tywin was simply in awe of her then, how simply and sincerely she had played the game._ His eyes had the glint of a man who was just dealt the winning hand. 

But as he escorted her inside the small carriage, her silent protest was _palpable_. Once inside the privacy of the carriage, she faced the window away from him. He rode in the front of the entourage and the hubbub of the common people took his attention since he realized that not many people loved their beloved king. Although attempts were made by Lady Margaery to smoothen over his image, all hell could break lose at any time if they were not vigilant.

Once they reached the Keep, he saw her as her _warm_ self again; she chatted happily with Lord Mace and Lord Loras who had arrived at the same time. She called after her brothers, who stood afar, no doubt, waiting for her. They came running to her, like puppies, and led her up the road to the gardens, where the wedding feast was held. Tywin was effectively left behind, as it was no longer necessary for them to be seen together. To any passerby, it would seem as if Tywin had allowed her to go, and it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Once in the gardens, he made his way through innumerous tables, acrobats, dancers and magicians, to reach the head tables. As he reached the tables, he noticed the chair on his left was empty. Andromeda was nowhere to be seen. _Of course. A young girl like her would be mingling in the crowd._ Instead Cersei sat on his right, eyeing the new queen, jealousy displayed so plainly on her face. His eyes scanned throughout the crowd of brightly colored people to find his red wife, but to no avail. He sat down and as soon as he did, he was forcefully pulled into a conversation with Cersei about Tyrion. _Gossip, would be a far more appropriate term._

Suddenly, like one spots something shiny in the sand, he found her standing in the corner facing the ocean. She was with Lord Oberyn Martell. Judging by the distance between them, and the ease of Lord Oberyn’s body, he sensed familiarity between them. They had met before. Judging by the way he touched her arm, and she _let him_ , they had met many times. _Ofcourse they had._ Oberyn Martell was leaning on the stone ledge, eating a grape from a fruit dish in front of them. He smiled at her as if he knew her secret, his eyes danced on her longer than required. Tywin’s mind was inked black. He tried to reason with himself. The Martells and the Panthyraals were very close, separated only by a river. They had been old friends, and had turned into family by way of marriage. The realization that Andromeda could very well have married Prince Oberyn, made Tywin feel uneasy in his seat. Nevertheless, his eyes never left them. He tracked every movement of the viper. He was now japing with her, judging by how Andromeda was laughing. His eyes never left hers, while hers were facing the ocean. Suddenly, as if she could feel his eyes on her, she turned to look at him. _Directly._ Tywin averted his eyes then, now watching them solely through his periphery. After a few minutes, he saw her walking towards the table, and Tywin shifted his body so as to look at Joffrey’s performers and not pay any heed to her. She sat down quietly, gathering the layers about her, and sighed, signaling her arrival. On her left sat Tyrion, where the table ended. As soon as she sat, she was pulled into a spirited conversation with him. With Cersei whispering in Tywin’s ear something about Tyrion’s whore, and Joffrey throwing gold coins at the performers, he could not hear very well what Tyrion was making Andromeda laugh so hard about. _He was vexed._

The evening drawled on one performance after another. The sun that was teetering on the horizon, had silently dipped. It seemed every acrobat, magician and dancer had arrived in King’s Landing. Joffrey seemed bored, he had now made a sport of throwing the coins _at the performers,_ laughing every time the coin hit their head. Tywin scoffed to himself. While Robert was inept and absent most of the times, he was not quite as _mad_ as his son. And that worried Tywin. The reports of Joffrey _mutilating_ animals and whores in such a fashion shocked Tywin, a man who had watched men being burned before their sons by another Mad king. And Tywin had just gifted this rogue animal a Valyrian sword. _Madness._

And then there was the matter of Cersei. Ever since Robert had died, Cersei had come off hinged. She has been unable to rule the realm or her son. Her rivalry with Margery had been distracting her. _Gods, was Tyrion really a better ruler than Cersei?_ At least Cersei would be shipped off to the Reach soon, and with Tyrion marrying Sansa, it would all finally be put to place. Tywin took a mental stock of his game, and he was still winning. He would always win.

The Royal Feast went on till after midnight. It went on till King Joffrey didn’t fall off his chair, on account of being too drunk. Only after he was taken to his bedchambers, by the Kingsguard did Tywin get up to leave. He would have never left Joffrey alone, that too in front of such an important crowd. Andromeda had however, been permitted to leave at an acceptable time, escorted by her brothers. Tywin had watched her leave, her dress bobbing behind her. Judging by how she leaned on Apollo, she was tired. Or drunk. He wouldn’t know. He had spent the last few hours with his brother, Lord Alizaar and Lord Mallister in the lower tables while she had been sitting with her brothers somewhere far. But before she disappeared in the corridor, she had turned to look at Tywin, only to find him looking at her already. There was an air of mystery in her eyes, as if she was beckoning him. _But she wasn’t._ She was simply walking away, but even as if looked at him one last time, something about her told him to follow her. _But Tywin did not._ He had duty to perform. 

When Tywin reached his bedchambers, it had begun raining. _Just like he thought it would._ Little pitter patters of raindrops resonated loudly in the silent corridors and stairways of the Tower of the Hand. The rain had just begun. The smell of wet earth permeated his nostrils as he reached their bedroom. When he opened the doors, he was surprised to find her standing by the open windows. The window was wind facing, and the rain had drenched her smock. Her white nightshift clung to her body like wet paper. _Thin white paper._ He cleared his throat then, signaling his presence. Andromeda faced him, her dress nearly transparent, and Tywin’s breath was hitched in his throat. There was heat in her eyes, her black eyes gleaming like ambers in the hearth.

He gulped then, as Andromeda walked closer to him. She was drunk too, as signaled by her walk. As she walked closer, he could clearly see her nipples through the translucent dress and it made his brow sweaty. Tywin felt heat stirring in his body. He gulped once more as she offered her glass to him, her eyes hazy from the tiredness and the wine. Tywin could see plain as day her naked body, the curve of her waist, the weight of her breasts and he felt sweat pool in the back of his tunic. Andromeda’s lips parted as she exhaled, and Tywin couldn’t help but come closer to her.

The way she inhaled his smell led him to believe this is what she wanted too. He took a sip from her glass, and he returned the glass to her, which she raised to her lips, without breaking eye contact. In her eyes he saw a glitter, a flame growing fast. A fire in which he wanted to drown tonight. She drained the glass, after which she let it promptly drop to the ground. The loud clang of metal did not break their trance as she came closer, only a breath away now.

The candles burned low in the bedchambers. The rain was now pouring steadily outside. They stood there, eyeing each other, like predators. _It just wasn’t clear who was the prey._ That question was also answered succinctly when Andromeda spoke. Her voice was a soft one, her tone was that of someone complaining as she said, ‘What took you so long?’

The question was left unanswered as she did not wait a moment for him to answer and began removing his belt. The shadows that hung over their unconsummated marriage disappeared in the cool air of their bed chamber. She unbuckled the belt and began unfastening his doublet. Tywin helped her with the clasps and pushed it off his shoulders to fall on the floor unceremoniously. He did not put his doublet on the chair behind him like he always did. It seemed that if he broke eye contact with her, the world would stop spinning. Then came the tunic. She unbuttoned his tunic with her nimble fingers and pushed it off his shoulders. Her urgency made the hair on his arms stand up. As he stood almost naked in front of his young wife, who was eyeing him with what could only be described best as hunger, he felt himself getting hard. _It was his turn now._ Tywin asked no questions. His jaw worked as he began lifting her dress to rid her off it. When she shook her head and whispered ‘no’, Tywin shot her a look of anger. _Enough games. Do not spike me further, I want you now._ His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, but Andromeda did not care as she turned and walked towards the bed. The tigress was taunting him. 

Tywin’s anger dissipated in the air as he was transfixed on her ass. He nearly groaned when she turned to face him and slowly, deliberately removed her shift, letting it pool at her feet. Tywin felt as if the air from the room had left. It was all control he had over his body cultivated over years that enabled him to walk to her, and not _pounce_ on his naked wife.

As soon as he reached her, her arms were wrapped around his neck, and his arms around her waist as they kissed. The urgency on her lips only made him harder and he pushed her on the bed. He was not a virgin boy. He was a man married twice. He knew how important it is to consummate his wedding, and how precarious it would be if it’s left unconsummated. He would have ideally hoped to do it himself, on the night of the wedding itself, if not for that godforsaken news of Margery. And since then, every day had been spent in dousing another fire. But the fact that his wife understood this too, and was willing and pining for him, as evidenced by her eager lips, made his mind turn blank with arousal. The small part of him that thought that she might turn him away in bed, and that he would have to _force_ her like a beast was silently put to death as she kissed him. In all this, their lips never separated. They kissed deeply, frantically, as if they had drunk poison and the other’s lips were the antidote. He could taste the sweet wine on her, along with something sweeter. Their kiss deepened as he pushed his tongue in her mouth. She gasped then, her arms wrapped around him, never once letting him go.

Tywin broke away to catch a breath, but Andromeda closed the gap again. Tywin focused on her neck. Kissing down to her neck, he smirked as he felt her rapid pulse on her neck. When he kissed her below her ear, she nearly squirmed away, if not for the fortress of his arms around her. He trailed lower, her neck and chest were covered in a blush as he placed a soft kiss on her breast. A loud moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. As he sucked and swept his tongue over the nipple, she could feel it tighten under his tongue, and she made, without her mind’s permission, a low growl. One that Lord Tywin, surprisingly, gave right back.

His hand was gently kneading the other one, caressing it to the tip where he brought his thumb and forefinger together to tease her, making her growl harder. Her breath was deepening and there was a pool of heat building low inside of her. Andromeda’s mouth was left open as Tywin’s hand had snaked down _there_. His mind blurred at the touch of her wet, slick cunt. She was eager for _him_ , and the coil deep in his belly strung tighter. He was drawing circles around her heat, moving his fingers over and around her bud expertly. Andromeda pressed her head deep in the pillows and arched her back, grinding on his hand, trying to gain more of the friction he was providing. His fingers sped up now, drawing steady circles closer to her bud now. That sensation coupled with his lips steady on her other breast now, brought torrents of pleasure crashing onto her over and over. As her vision blurred and her ears blocked the sound of everything except the blood rushing in them, she anchored her arms on his body and arched her back as she kept grinding on his palm, looking for every possible point of friction she could find. She released a moan so loud, from the deep of her belly, she was sure the guards would’ve heard her.

Tywin was rapt at her release. It only seemed to compound her beauty. Yet, at the same time he was stung with a needle of guilt of thinking of her that way. If he let it, the passion he was feeling for her, would easily twist to loss for his first. He had to make an effort to exist in the moment.

Composure comes back to her in allotments: hearing, sensation and finally vision as she opened her eyes. She found Tywin position between her legs. His face had lost all of its hardness. Andromeda could not quite place the emotion he was displaying until she realized it was vulnerability. The Great Lion had watched her pant and moan and catch her breath before he had positioned himself between her thighs, pleased as she instinctively brought her knees up to cradle him there. She felt him lowering himself into the small of her thighs, the weight of him pushing her thighs apart. She then watched him as he pushed her thighs farther, pulling her knees back slightly to accommodate him there.

As he lowered himself onto her, their bodies pressed together in the most intimate of ways. The coarse hair of his legs rubbing on her soft inner thighs, the place where his hand rested close to her head, his hot, hard cock pressed on her _there._

When he spoke, his voice was sturdy but his eyes were sad, ‘there will be pain, Andromeda.’ Hearing him say her name for the first time, made her moan instinctively. It sounded so sensual, so primal, when he called her by her name.

It was all he could offer, as comfort or a warning before he pushed his hard cock up and down her seam and then with a steady hand, tried to push it in her. Tywin would not focus on his own pleasure. He would look at his lady wife as he took her maidenhead. Taking her virginity was an honor, and her high birth demands respect. He would not cower away focusing on himself, he watched her with reverence.

Andromeda’s eyes pressed shut then, as he tore through her maidenhood. The pain she was trying to hide, clearly visible on her face. Her mouth emitted a deep groan and her hands instinctively held his arms as he pushed further. Her mouth gaped open as a tear rolled out of her squeezed shut eyes and down her cheek.

Tywin was catapulted to the time he caused this pain to someone else. He couldn’t help but lower on his elbows. His hand rubbing her tears away. He kissed her lower lip. He tried to speak softly, but it only came out impatiently, ‘Andromeda, we can stop, if you wish.’

She opened her eyes then, blinking away her tears as she looked at the man who held himself still inside her, for her sake and wiping her tears away. There was a certain pleasure in watching her husband so vulnerable. She mustered the courage to speak in a whisper, ‘no, please…’ 

It was enough for him to continue his steady motions. He tried hard to remain steady, his restrain visible on how tightly he held her waist, but her cunt was so tight, his cock just wanted to bury itself deep in it. She was slowly growing accustomed to the fullness of his cock inside her, which had a pulse of its own. As he moved inside her, she felt a heat building inside her again, but this time it felt _deeper_.

His face showed signs of strain, the cords of his neck pulled tight, as he was trying to restrain himself. She began churning her hips clumsily at him. She moved her hands up to his face, where she pulled him closer to her face. The slight shift in angle made her gasp again. They gasped each other’s air as she whispered in the softest of moans, ‘More… please.’

More what she did not know, but the Great lion’s body reacted before his mind could register the meaning of her words. He sped, now thrusting into her. His pace and depth increased, making Andy moan his name in a slur. Watching her thrust back at him, her eyes pressed shut and her mouth chanting his name like a prayer, was all it took, to thrust hard in her until she crashed around him once more. He followed her lead in a few moments, as he sped up uncontrollably and shuddered hard as he spent himself inside her. 

He collapsed on her, out of breath and his heart beating loudly. She could feel the droplets of his sweat on her chest and belly. His hot breath could be felt on her neck. After a few moments, as Tywin gained his bearings, he rose and pulled his cock out of her, making her groan in pain at its removal from her now hot and messy _there._

He lay beside her, on his back, his arm behind his head, and his mouth slightly open. His chest still heaved as he pulled the covers over them, the chill of the cold rain reaching his now cool body.

Andromeda turned to face the fire. She groaned softly, as if to herself, as she moved her legs to pull the covers over her. Tywin shivered as if in response to the loud crack of lightening out there that illuminated the sky for a few moments. It was strange how they had been gasping the same air just few moments ago and now they slept at separate corners of the bed, aloof from each other. He was reminded painfully of the morning. He felt sorry for her then. He could only imagine what must be going on in her mind. He wondered if she felt lonely, or used. Certainly, she must feel confused after their two events of intimacies, once that morning and once just now. He softly grumbled at her back, sounding harsher than he meant, ‘I am sorry for that morning.’ When there was no response, he added, ‘you took me by surprise, I did not mean to offend. I am not accustomed to people – touching- my face…’ the last statement sounded sad. He did not tell her about how he did not allow anyone, not even his squire near his face. No one in the last 3 decades had touched his face. That part of him was too vulnerable, too dangerous. He even shaved himself and groomed himself.

Thinking it was a waste of effort, he was about to face the other side and go to sleep, when she turned to face him slowly. She brought her covers with her, modesty at the upfront now. She put her arm under her pillow and whispered, ‘it is alright, my Lord’ more to his chest than to him. 

‘In private, you may call me Tywin’, he stated, weighing his words. His eyes had a crinkle of mirth. She blushed and looked up at him then, her eyes had a strange look when she said, ‘It is alright Tywin.’ After a moment, she added, ‘and you can call me Andromeda…. though everyone in my family prefers Andy’. She smiled a little then.

Tywin nodded. Her name sounded foreign and strange as it rolled of his tongue. ‘Andromeda’, he repeated, testing it on his tongue, finding that he liked it. ‘What does your name mean?’ his tone sounded more pointed than he meant.

‘It is the name of a goddess that lives in the stars. It was the name of my grandmother, she died right before I was born, and I was named in her memory.’ She smiled sheepishly, her cheeks flushing. Of course, Tywin thought to himself. How had he not made this connection in the first place. Tywin had heard about Andromeda the tiger girl when he was little. ‘I like your name’. A statement made simply, made his wife _beam._ She inched closer to him. Tywin noticed her doing so. Not that she was trying to hide it. He appreciated that about her. _How un-subtle she was._ There was a certain innocence in her then. He had met far too many women who hid every action, every sentence in layers of deeper meaning, an unraveling of motive that was simply too exhausting and not too trustworthy. He remembered a joke then, ‘that’s why poison is a lady’s choice of weapon, it is small enough to be hidden within their folds’. The crude statement on women’s use of sex as a weapon made him smirk then. Andromeda had nothing of that sort. She was direct in her movements, honest in her intentions. He was reminded of how she had pulled his face close to her when he was fucking her to _kiss_ on his neck, mimicking his earlier actions. And when he had moaned in response to her nips, she had sucked on his neck, earning a deep growl and an increase in pace. She learnt from him and imitated him, matching her movement to his.

Maybe it was the liquid courage, but she had not shied away from him. _She_ had advanced on him, even with her total lack of experience. Whereas other women would be left embarrassed being with such an _experienced_ man, Andromeda had been eager to learn, to receive and to reciprocate. She had been eager enough to initiate, and he was impressed by her brawn then. It had stirred a coil within him when he had found her wanting for _him_ , and it stirred every time he thought about it. While most men raped their wives and got off on it, Tywin was turned on by his wife’s brazen willingness. Her desire of him, turned him on. Her making the first step in their intimacies was a fact that made him proud. 

He of all people knew the importance of consummation of a marriage. He had lived long enough in King’s Landing to know how the greatest of weddings could be annulled on lack of consummation. But he had wished her to be comfortable with him. He had waited, and was willing to wait for more, till their relationship developed organically.

This was not the mind of a thoughtful lover, but that of a pragmatic tactician who knew how important it was for the wife to feel as if she has a say in these matters. It would only benefit him in the long run. It was a small step in ensuring a strong tie with the mother of his heirs.

What Tywin would never reveal, even to himself, was that one of the reasons for him to not force himself on her was that he had not done it the _first_ time either. He had never done it in his life. The thought of forcing himself on his young wife brought painful reminder of the love he had for his first wife. It stood as mockery of his character as a man that the only reason he had not forced himself on his first wife was because he _loved_ her. He believed Andromeda deserved this choice as well, it was a respect that her high birth demanded, which he had given her.

Another flash of light broke his reverie. He looked at Andromeda, who had closed her eyes. Whether it was in respect of his privacy while he daydreamed, or out of sheer exhaustion, he did not know.

The last thing Tywin saw before he closed his eyes was Andromeda’s hand on her pillow in front of him. Her fingers were delicate and the ring on her ring finger was a bit large for her finger. The last thing he felt as he turned the other way before he fell asleep was her hand on his waist, the cold ring against his rib. It lay there, peacefully, normally, like one would hold a pillow.

Tywin allowed her the comfort of holding on to her husband, her anchor in a sea of change and new. And he allowed himself the comfort of being held by soft arms and warm hands as he was cradled to a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Please keep commenting and showing your love! I love reading your suggestions. IT GIVES ME LIFE to see y'all so invested in the story.


	14. Married Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little snippets of the married life of Andromeda and Tywin.

Andromeda woke up to strange sensations. First there were things happening in her body. Her _there_ still ached dully. Then there were things happening around her, she was facing the black hearth, her head on the outstretched, sinewy arm of Tywin. His other arm wrapped around her belly. She could feel him breathing somewhere above her ear. His body was pressed flush against hers, which was a comfort on this cold, rainy morning. But his semi-hard cock was also pressed against her buttocks uncomfortably.

As she stirred under his arm, he stirred too, pressing his cock further into her. It was motion that felt deliberate, but she had no way of proving it. She stirred again, and he stirred too, his arm now under her breasts, holding her in place as he slowly churned behind her. His breaths seemed to get deeper with every movement. Andromeda felt hot down there, as she felt his cock get harder, now reaching her lower back.

The constraints of his arms around her and his body against her were stirring the heat inside her. When his hand started kneading her breasts, she moaned loudly, revealing her ruse. When she reached behind and held his cock in her hand, he gasped, revealing his ruse. Neither of them was asleep now. She had held his cock in her hand, but did not what to do, until he moved his cock in her hand in the up and down motion, and she followed, moving her hand down to the base of his cock and bringing it to the tip, that was now wet. Tywin was moaning softly in her hair.

He then snaked his hand down to her wet cunt, moving his fingers around her bud, teasing it lightly, and plunging his fingers in her heat before bringing them back up. He teased her right until she was about to reach her release and he removed his hand completely, leaving her gasping for more. She was almost upset at this fall until she felt him positioning himself along her entrance. As he pushed his cock inside her, the moan she let out was like music to his ears. She instinctively pushed her upper leg forwards, accommodating him.

He held her by the waist as he thrust into her slowly. Andromeda churned back clumsily as her breath deepened. They were in no hurry this morning, each lazily chasing the other. He kissed her neck from behind, while teasing her bud with his hand. The waves of pleasure clashed against each other repeatedly as he rubbed around her bud while pounding into her. Her long awaited release was loud and long, as she growled for every last point of friction. He followed soon after, his pace increased uncontrollably, his grasp on her waist would leave bruises that she did not care about. He pounded into her wetness until he spent himself inside of her with a final thrust. He was bent behind her. She could feel his hot breath on the nape of her neck. His hand still grasped her waist. His chest felt sweaty. They lay like that till the sun rose fully, not quite close but not letting go either.

She was facing him, as he slept. His face so close to her she could feel his breaths. This was the closest she had felt to him. _But did he feel anything at all, she could not tell._ Until he put his arm around her as he pulled the covers over her. She smiled small. Contentment came over like waves as minutes trickled by. It seemed she had closed her eyes only for a moment when she was woken up by the loud knocks of Alya. When she woke, she was alone in the bed. _Tywin must’ve gotten up earlier._ She silently thanked the gods for it. Her face flushed instantly at the sight of what seemed to be _her_ blood and _their_ wet, the proof of their lovemaking on the bedspread. As she got up and found her nightgown, she smiled to herself as she realized she smelled of him.

~-oOo-~

It had been a few weeks since King Joffrey’s wedding. Andromeda had slowly settled into her married life. Preparations for Lord Tyrion’s wedding to Lady Sansa and Lady Cersei’s wedding to Lord Willas were underway. Both weddings were to be conducted within a day of each other next week. It was an activity in which Lady Andromeda and Lady Margery had completely immersed themselves in. Both the new brides could be seen frequenting each other's chambers and spending long hours in the gardens together. They always shared lunches and took walks together. Andromeda had begun to like Margery. Her boisterous personality favored Andromeda well. 

She had introduced Andromeda to the life of a Lady in King's Landing. What she had been missing in the form of her friends, and Vega, she had found in Lady Margery and her coven of cousins. Margery knew more about the ladies and lords of King’s Landing than anybody. She would whisper things like, ‘her daughter has a nose like a parrot’, ‘he favors handicapped women’, ‘she was set to marry Lord Allister before he found out about her gout’ while they walked around the Red Keep and made Andromeda laugh with her mimicry.

They also talked about babies. Fat babies and noisy babies, cute babies and sleepy babies. Margery’s pregnancy had become public news as her belly grew bigger each week. They spent hours setting up the nursery in the solar adjacent to her chambers. They embroidered blankets and little dresses for the next heir to the crown. Margery sometimes wore bruises on her body that she scoffed as ‘bathing’ accidents, but Andromeda was not sure. She worried when Margery said things nonchalantly. Things like, ‘I hope the baby does not take after its father’, but Andromeda did not confront her. It was not her place. But every time Margery would be spotted with a fresh bruise, Andromeda's mind would worry and with a lot of restraint she would stop herself from telling her husband or her father about it. 

Margery also introduced Andromeda to the daily Court. She had taken Andromeda with her to attend the Court in the colossal Throne room. Margery believed that “immersing oneself into the daily workings of the court is the only way to serve the Realm.” It was a noble thought that was not espoused by her husband, for the King was rarely to be seen in the Court. Andromeda sat in one of the middle benches. While usually there were but a handful people in court, today the Court was jam-packed, as noted by Margery. She could not hear Margery speak as the chatter of the people around her grew louder. The sky-high ceiling of the Throne room echoed loudly with the noise of people. Suddenly, there was absolute silence. Children were hushed and indolent adults were shushed. Everyone around her stood up. She followed. She sat right next to the aisle with Margery on her left. She was craning to look who had entered, but found no one on the Iron Throne. Petyr Baelish and Varys stood on either side of the Throne like solemn sentinels and Pycelle was wobbling towards the throne. Surely the mass had not stood for the old Maester. He was as insignificant as a whisper in the wind. 

Just as she whispered to Margery, ‘who is it?’ she felt goosebumps on her body. She caught a whiff of a familiar smell. Before she could turn and look who was coming, her husband walked past her. His face was steely and his gait was sure. His body exuded silent intimidation. As he climbed up the stairs and finally sat on the throne, everyone sat too, silently now. He sat on the throne like he was born to sit in it. Andromeda had seen Joffrey slouch on the Throne like a sullen child. His hands uncertain of where to hold and his body scared of touching the blades. Tywin’s wide frame made sure he was not overcast by the jarring blades. The blades somehow seemed to enhance his figure. His fingers expertly navigated through the blades and he leaned comfortably, favoring his right side. His face wore a neutral expression, but his shoulders told her he was slightly displeased, if not angry.

Throughout the long proceeding, she could not take her eyes off him, just like _everybody else_. It was captivating to watch a stoic man wield justice to the small folks. When he spoke, every man listened. Petyr Baelish, Varys or Pycelle did not dare interrupt the Great Lion. He heard patiently, and gave fair judgements. Silent pride coursed through Andromeda as she watched him _rule the realm_.

Every time he looked at the crowd, Andromeda wondered if he had spotted her. _And hoped so too._ There was a flutter in her heart, whenever he glanced over the Court. He was poured in his work, and the realm was better of it. Her Maester had taught her all about Aerys’ rule. She had learnt that for 15 years Tywin had been the Hand of the King and there had been prosperity in the seven kingdoms. Today, for the first time she witnessed it firsthand. The tall praises for Tywin’s strategy from Aster, the revered comments of her father of his bravery in war and the hushed words of Margery about his loyalty towards his wife did not hold a candle to witnessing Tywin in his person, immersed in his work.

By the end of the proceeding Andromeda felt newfound respect for her Lord Husband’s work, followed by pride in being his wife, followed by a longing to be in his presence. As the crowds dispersed, Margery pulled her to leave by the stairs behind the throne, and in walking towards the throne, she came face to face to the Great Lion.

Tywin stopped in his track. His face seemed rigid but he seemed slightly surprised to see his lady wife amongst the small folk. In the few weeks that they had shared space, Tywin had found his wife uninterested in his work, and so seeing her today was a surprise. He had assumed the matters of the Court to be boring, or simply unimportant for his wife.

Andromeda noticed that while his face remained stoic, his eyes lost some of their seriousness as she curtsied and greeted him. He seemed to be in a hurry, since he was steered away by Petyr Baelish lugging some heavy books. He left with a curt nod, but as he passed by her, his hand lightly brushed hers. These were one of those movements of her husband that she was unsure of whether they were deliberate or was she simply imagining things. A touch so soft it might have been the wind, and yet she felt his fingers brush her palm. Andromeda turned to look at him, but he did not turn back. _He never looked back._ She was left alone with her imaginations and her longing to see him. _To be with him._

~-oOo-~

It was after sunset. While they woke up at different times and spent time apart for most part of the day, Tywin had made it a habit to share his last meal with her. He enjoyed the quiet that her presence brought after the hassle of every day. Unassuming and content with herself, Andromeda’s presence made others feel comfortable to be themselves too, Tywin included. He spent his entire day with conniving, scheming sons of bitches, but this part of his day was his haven. 

He would usually find Andromeda at the dinner table, waiting for him. She would be found reading or writing in her little book, a practice that he had not observed in any other Lady and a trait that he had failed to cultivate in his own children. A few days after their wedding, Tywin had spotted this behavior of his wife. He had entered the bedchamber to change his tunic, the one he was wearing was besmirched with an absentminded ink blot, when he had found her sitting by the window reading a large book. Since then, he had granted her access to his library in the solar, and had invested a table with an appropriate chair in the library for her.

Today was different however. When he reached the hall, he could not find her, but something inside him told him that she was here. The air smelled of warm flowers. He called out her name, only for her to pop out of the garden a few moments later. It was Andromeda that suggested that they should eat downstairs, by the gardens. Although Tywin preferred to eat in the large dining room upstairs, he had grown to find their new space enjoyable too. The table they sat on was a small round one. They sat in front of each other, near the garden. The smell of the flowers of the garden and the breeze of the ocean soothed his weary mind. 

Andromeda walked towards him and he saw she was carrying _something_ in her arm. When she walked closer to the light, he saw that something _move_. When she brought that pitch-black ball closer to him, he realized that it was a black kitten. It was purring softly as it lay balled in her hands. Andromeda squealed in a voice that one uses to talk to infants. ‘This is Linney!’ She pushed the ball in front of his face, her face beaming with the widest smile he had seen on her.

‘This is a stray cat.’ Tywin said in a disgusted voice. He was beyond that age when one is fascinated by young animals. He was beyond the age of ten, but apparently his wife was not. He saw them for what they were- a nuisance. But certainly, his wife did not.

‘His mother is dead, it has no one, can I keep it?’ she said in a comically sad voice. Tywin had never seen someone make their eyes so sad so fast. She pouted at the small ball, which in turn purred. She gasped again, cooing at the creature. Tywin knew he couldn’t say no to this silly request. Not wanting to behave like a grouchy old man, he conceded, ‘Fine. But when it dies in the winter, you shall bury it yourself. And if I find it anywhere near me, I will bury it.’ His wife remained unperturbed by his morbid threat. His nose crinkled at the sight of the cat, and his face had a mask of annoyance. ‘Thankyou thankyou thankyou!’ Andromeda jumped up and down at his flaccid response. Then as she left to place the kitten somewhere, he could hear her say excitedly, ‘and that was your Lord Father Linney!’ Thinking that his lady wife had surely gone mad, he sat down to eat, but a keen observer would have seen a smile pass Lord Tywin’s face. 

When she returned, Tywin was thankful for her composure. ‘Thank you, Tywin’, she said in a soft voice after she sat down. Tywin sensed hesitance in her voice when she spoke her name, she was still not accustomed to calling him by his name. They ate in comfortable silence, only interrupted by the waiters bringing food. As the dessert pie was served, it began raining. The soft rain over the trees, the smell of wet earth and small droplets of water that splashed on his face made him feel at peace.

Dessert was another indulgence of Andromeda. His lady wife loved sweets. She would pace through the meat and the vegetables only to savor the dessert. He had deliberately started eating slowly, so that she would not pace through her meal to enjoy the dessert.

They sat side by side, sipping wine and watching the rain fall. Each content with another’s silence. The rain was steadily growing, now accompanied by thunder and lightning as well. It made Andromeda’s mind sing. It also made her blush at the memory of their first night together in the rain. She glanced at Tywin then, who was looking at the dark sky, as if in deep thought.

‘I saw you in Court today.’ She said nonchalantly, playing with her glass. What she expected him to say was that he saw her too, and that he liked seeing her. But he was the Great Lion, not some young bard, so he said, ‘Hard to miss on that big chair with the swords.’ His tone had no edge. Andromeda had developed an ear for his pointed retorts. They didn’t hurt her now. He had a flair for talking in rhetoric and Andromeda always found it witty.

‘You work hard for the realm.’ She said sincerely. Her words sounded hollow to her. She didn’t know what else to say.

‘As is my duty as the Hand of the King.’ He said sternly, sitting a bit straighter in his chair. Inside though, he felt a twinge of pride. The crickets had begun chirping. He inhaled deeply.

‘Do you never get bored of it?’

‘Bored of what?’

‘Bored of all this, of ruling, strategizing, worrying about every damn person in King’s Landing, from every little shit in Flea’s Bottom to ever little shit in the Red Keep.’ She said in one hurried stretch. She exhaled. Clearly, she had been thinking of this since when she had seen him. It warmed Tywin to think that someone gave a thought about the work he did. _Not that he needed praise._ But it felt nice to be noticed for your work. _By your wife._ Joanna never took any interest in his work, and his position as the Hand of the King had only driven a wedge between them as he was required to stay away from his family.

Tywin thought for a few moments, taking a sip of his wine and then looked at her, 'what would you have me do? This is my work.’ He said gesturing in front of him. _He was in the mood to humor her._

‘You could be a fisherman.’ She said chuckling playfully.

He pretended as if he was considering it as a viable career option, ‘earlier, that would’ve been possible but now there is no good game out here, the wildfire killed every damn fish in the bay. If I want to be a good fisherman, I should move to Lannisport, probably to Gold Tooth.’ Playing along with her silly games was the easiest way to get her to stop, he had realized. But in the back of his mind an image of him sitting alone in a boat, bobbing peacefully in the calm waters was conjured. He could see the water in front of him, he is wearing a simple vest, no rings. The sun is about to set in an hour or so. He is returning to the shore after a day’s work. Besides the seagulls there is no one to talk to, no one to bother him. _Even thinking for a moment about a different life was painful to him._

‘And I could sell the fish in the market. I could also catch crabs and lobsters near our hut on the shore.’ She says wistfully. On her face was the smile that comes on the face of a child listening to a really good story. He could see her sitting in the sand in front of a little hut, attempting to catch crabs.

‘You could also weave the nets out of palm fronds.’ He added; his face had lost the mask of irritation. His eyes were smiling, while the rest of his face remained serious.

‘And then we could-’ her thought was interrupted by a knock on the doors. Instantly, the mask of seriousness returned to Tywin’s face. His jaw was working as he stood up, his arms by his side, but as he walked away, he looked at Andromeda and briefly the smile returned to his eyes as he inhaled. ‘It seems the fish are calling me,’ his eyes glancing at the big doors behind her. She smiled at him in return, and walked to the library, doubly allowing him his privacy.


	15. Rainfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It rains in King's Landing. A certain young lady gets excited to dance in the rain. Other events transpire.

It was barely midday when Tywin heard his wife’s hurried footsteps outside his doors. He was working in the solar. His wife was prone to interrupt him with some work or a question about the upcoming weddings. He had learnt to work around her cackle. _Over time._ A moment later the doors burst open and in walked his wife, with a long sheet of paper in her hand, looking flustered.

She curtsied hurriedly, ‘My lord’. Tywin had noticed this endearing trait about her that even when they were alone, no matter how urgent the matter, his wife preferred to follow the customs of addressal. It was unnecessary on her part, but Tywin found it strangely innocent of her. _Endearing._

Andromeda was pacing around his solar, scratching things off of her list and muttering to herself. ‘Is everything alright Andromeda?’, Tywin asked absentmindedly, while drafting a letter. When his wife kept pacing, he finally lifted his eyes off his letter and looked at her. She wore a loose gossamer gown of purple that bellowed behind her as she paced. Her hair was tied in a bun, as she did when she was writing or reading.

‘My lord, I was just reviewing the list of the guests invited for Queen Cersei’s wedding and Lord Tyrion’s wedding and I noticed a few discrepancies. For instance, Lord Maghorn is invited to Queen Cersei’s wedding but not to Lord Tyrion’s. The same is with Lord Jaslyn, Lord Piprek and Lord Tallinn and many others whose names aren’t even in the list. Why is that so? The weddings are just a moon apart.’

Tywin chuckled at his wife’s worried face, ‘you are obsessing over the smallest details Andromeda. No one cares about the invitations.’

At his comments, Andromeda frowned. Her eyes were on the paper and her jaw was working. _Clearly the weddings were important to her._ They gave her a sense of purpose beside from being a wife and a daughter. Tywin simply kept looking at her, silently admiring her face and watching her mind make a decision. ‘You know what, you are right.’ She said finally, sitting in the chair in front of him. She kept the paper on his desk and picked up a goblet and filled it with wine. She drank deeply and sighed. ‘Who cares about a Lannister wedding anyways.’ Her eyes were fixed on a point behind him. 

Her comment fueled his ire. ‘Lannister weddings are what makes this realm keep going my lady, lest you forget that even you are married to a Lannister man,’ he declared in a stern voice as he returned to his work. As he scoffed inwardly at his wife’s ignorance and sheer stupidity, it hit him. _His wife had just spiked him._ He looked at her then. The young woman in front of him who was giggling in her glass. Her eyes had mischief in them.

Tywin _hated_ laughter and pranks. It annoyed him beyond limits. But as he heard his wife’s unbridled laughter at hoodwinking him, he realized that what he hated was falseness and pretense. _Andromeda had none of it._ When she smiled, there were no hidden layers beneath her smile. Tywin would try and try to uncover the hidden layers but it would only end up spiking his fury when he found none. Her smile was like a pool of water so clear, one is frustrated when it finds there is no bottom to this pool.

He threw her a look of anger, but his eyes were smiling against his will. _At her. Against his will._

Suddenly there was a loud crash of thunder and the clouds broke. It began pouring heavily. Andromeda squealed and ran to the window. She stuck her arm out and shouted, ‘Look Tywin it is raining so hard. I have never seen it rain so bad. Look at the wall, you can’t see it Tywin come look at this.’ Andromeda, who was from the barren lands, was not accustomed to the sudden showers of Westeros. Her voice had the ring of surprise and joy, one which he had only found in Tommen’s voice before. 

Instead of questioning how one can look at something that is not visible, Tywin chided his wife. _Gently than he would have done to anybody else._ ‘You are behaving like a child Andromeda’. But his words had no edge like a swat of a cat.

She did not pay any heed to him as there was more grumbling in the sky and the downpour increased. ‘I am going down in the gardens. Let’s go in the rain Tywin look at it,’ she said practically jumping. The floor shook with the reverberations of the sky and Andromeda cheered on. _Like a little child._

‘No, thank you my lady, I have work to attend to, besides, I am not a child that dances in the rain. Close the windows and sit here Andromeda, you are letting all the water in.’ He was getting a little impatient now.

‘No, I am going downstairs, whether you come or not.’ And lo she left. Her dress bellowing after her as she ran like an insolent child.

She could be heard running downstairs and squeal in the rain. Tywin kept sitting. He will not participate in this tomfoolery. _Ever._ When her noises got too loud and the water was puddling on the carpets, he got up to close the window. _What he would never admit to anybody was that her gleeful sounds had taken the better part of his curiosity._

Downstairs, he spotted his young wife spinning in the rain with her arms outstretched. Her hair had come undone. He scoffed at her asinine behavior and sat down. Even though Andromeda was mature for her age, some days she couldn’t help but behave like a flighty child. Flights of lunacy visited her sometimes, when she would do something so childish as dance in the rain. It was then that Tywin was slapped in the face with the realization that Andromeda was a young girl, and he was an old man. This realization made him furious for some reason and he finished his goblet of wine and poured another, now flipping furiously through the pages of the report he was reading. Outside the overcast clouds made it increasingly difficult for him to read anything in his solar, and it was early to light the lamps yet. So begrudgingly, Tywin lifted his papers and his goblet and walked downstairs to sit at the dinner table. It was brighter downstairs near the garden.

Tywin sat at the table reading angrily, trying to find her with his peripheral vision. He spotted her sitting under the white magnolia trees. She was sitting still under the tree, as if in meditation. Her legs were outstretched in front of her and her arms were by her side as she leaned back on the trunk of the thick tree. Tywin couldn’t resist and he looked up at her. Her face was smiling, _no it was beaming._ Her eyes were closed as rain drops trickled on her face. In her lap were fallen flowers of the tree. She wiggled her toes when the rain drops hit them, smiling softly. Her hands were splashing the water around her, like a fish’s fins. _A sigh escaped his throat involuntarily._ She looked so peaceful then, so happy. This was probably one of the first times Tywin had seen his foreign wife so happy. While they had not been together for more than one moon’s turn, he had not ever seen his wife truly smile. She always had the cloak of propriety, that her high birth demanded, draped tightly around her. That and being married to a strange man in a strange land, Tywin figured, were the reasons why he had never seen her laugh unbridled around him. And Tywin was aware of his effect on her. While she had fairly accustomed to being his wife in their quarters, there were still times when she got nervous around him, which he chalked up to his age, and his demeanor. But right now, as this young girl sat under a white tree with flowers in her hair, he realized how little he knew of her previous life. 

He pretended to be concentrating on his work, scrunching his forehead at a particularly boring paragraph on coal supplies in Lannisport, as she walked inside when the evening had fallen. He scoffed and said at the growing pool of water under her feet, ‘and when you catch a terrible cold, do not come to me then.’ When he heard giggling, _a slight against him_ , he looked up at her furiously. His eyes narrowed slightly and his mouth turned into a scowl, scanning her face for any sign of insult. _If only._ Andromeda scrunched up her nose and sniffled, her lips scrunched too, mocking him openly by pretending to have a cold. He stood up then, towering over her. Tywin was a tactician, a strategist, but most of all, he was a lion, and he was sizing his prey. Facing the Pin of the Hand, the tigress in front of him did not budge, however. _He liked this._ His face remained a placid mask of sobriety as his wife, who looked up at his tall face, clearly scowling and giggled at him. _Her mocking him would not be forgiven._ His ire rose unbounded as he noticed how she was slightly shivering. _This girl will get herself sick._ ‘Go change out of your wet clothes my lady. You are making puddles out of my carpets.’ His commanding tone and his stern voice left nothing up for question.

He had given a command and she must obey. _As was her duty._ Her face lost its joy and Tywin smirked at his control being restored. He was preparing to sit down, but as she walked past him, her hand brushed his in an unmistakable, _deliberate_ manner, and the scales were tipped in her favor, _undeniably_. _The tigress did not budge._ He almost lost control as he heard the familiar noise of the doors to their bedchamber being opened, but not being closed. _She was taunting the lion openly._

Still, Tywin sat stewing for a few moments in his seat, his back now sweaty as he tried to read the words scribbled on the paper. It was unreadable. His mind kept going upstairs, to his wife, to her lips, her wet clothes, to _her_. The lion had a choice to make. He could sit here, stewing in his anger with his wife upstairs doing _god knows what_. His mind was a spool of thread that was coming unraveled thinking about her in his bed. Or, he could let go of his pride and join her…

Finally, with a grunt he pushed his chair away in frustration and walked upstairs, angry at himself. Calling himself a weak old man who was spun around his young wife’s fingers, his mind was clouded with her thoughts along with thoughts about his lack of control over himself. But everything went blank when he saw her loosely wrapped in a towel. _His towel._ Her hair still wet, the water droplets traced the bare skin of her back as they crept lower, giving _him_ goosebumps. Outside, the evening blue was claiming the grey of the rain. The rain had not stopped. The open windows made everything sing with its music. She saw him in the mirror and walked towards him. Her eyes were hazy and her lips were parted as she inhaled deeply. He gulped, trying to steady his breaths. She walked up to him and standing on tiptoes to kiss him. This was the first time since their first night that she had initiated intimacy. After the next morning, he had neither, simply out of sheer work. He always slept later than her and woke up earlier than her. The most he saw her was during dinners, not counting the brief glimpses of her he caught in the Keep. He would never tell her, but most afternoons, while he would return from the Iron Court, he would take the longer route to his Tower, so that he could catch a glimpse of her sitting in the Royal gardens with her coven. _She would never see him, and he liked that._

Her eyes closed as she pulled on his tunic while simultaneously trying to pull herself up. Both acts to bring him closer to her, and Tywin’s thoughts were blurry as his body and mind flickered in an all-consuming heat. Their kisses were frantic, wet and a little rough. He knew she could feel the hardness of his arousal press into her belly when she was pressed flush against him like that, a blatant display of what she deemed was her effect on him, and it left him hot and panting until he pulled his mouth away a tiny amount.

‘Meda…’ _He loved that she initiated their intimacies, as if renewing his faith in the fact that she was attracted to him, and not just bound to sleep with him._ It was all he could whisper before she closed the gap and kissed him again. Tywin would never believe what everyone whispered amongst themselves as they watched them interact, that his young wife was enamored with him. All wives are taught to be attracted to their husbands, or to feign attraction, one part of his brain said. But the way Andromeda’s hands roamed down his neck and his chest and her tongue slipped in his mouth, that part of his brain where all his doubts lived was snuffed out.

His memory would never quite piece it together, but the next thing he would remember was ending up on the bed. She completely naked and helping him out of his breeches. They were all hands and mouths, and like their kisses prior, physical actions were fervent and a little rough. She was kissing every place she could reach, first hesitant at kissing him anywhere other than his lips, but when he gave an airy grunt as she kissed his neck, she was unstoppable. She sucked and licked on his neck and lower as Tywin ran his fingers from her breasts down to her heat. He felt a powerful surge of arousal coursing through his body that made him shiver. She was so wet and ready for him. His fingers deep in her cunt, as she gasped his name. His need was suddenly a priority- as he swiftly positioned her underneath him and entered her, exhaling a grunt that sounded painful.

She felt a twinge of discomfort accompanied with a sense of fullness. As he expertly thrust inside her, Andromeda arched her back and pushed her head in the pillows, her chest and neck covered in a rich blush. Tywin did not seem at all bothered by her inexperience. When her moans started getting louder, he slowed down and peered at his wife. His arm outstretched above her, grabbing the headboard. 

‘Look at me Meda…’

She forced her eyes open and looked up at him. His body was above her, and he stooped to kiss her, while resuming his movement inside her. She wrapped her arms around him, an attempt to keep him closer, as she reached her peak, moaning his name repeatedly. He was sure the guards outside the main doors would’ve heard her by now. He felt her walls clench around his cock and he followed moments later.

He lay beside her, catching his breath, his eyes closed and his left arm over his eyes. He felt her soft hand creep over his chest and settle on his heart as he felt her body shift and lean over to face him. _This, he realized, was cuddling._ His wife, by all accounts, was _addicted_ to touching him. Even nonchalantly, while reading or walking with him, she would keep _petting_ him like he was a cat. Almost every night since their wedding, Tywin had woken up with his wife’s limbs on him or around him. This, he had later realized, was the result of her upbringing.

He had come to this conclusion when one day, since Gerion, the lord commander of the Lannister forces, was unwell, Tywin had trained with Andromeda’s brothers. They were young, and agile, but not quite as experienced as Gerion. What Tywin had realized was that, even if they had the grace of age and agility, they were not as great at strategizing. And so, while they broke on top in the first few rounds, progressively, as Tywin began learning their moves, he started besting them. So much so, that by the end of it, Tywin was able to keep off all three of them at once. What had surprised him though, was that, after the fight, they all hugged each other, and at least _attempted_ to do so to Tywin also, before his stern face stopped them in their tracks. They laced their arms around each other and left, in a cloud of crass jokes and comradery. And when they were all met by Andromeda back from her visit to Queen Margery, they patted her on her back and Aster, with whom she was closest with, even kissed her forehead, while Apollo and Archer pulled her cheeks.

Tywin saw this from afar, and he realized that he had failed to foster such love amongst his children. While Jaime and Tyrion were close, they were never _this_ close and their relationship had been strained ever since that incident with the whore. And the venom between Tyrion and Cersei was visible for everyone to see. Not one small council meeting with both of them present had ended on civil terms without one goblet being thrown.

So, whenever Andromeda patted his hands or spread on his body like a cat on a sun baked rock, he let her, because he understood that it was meant as an expression of trust. He could lie here under her embrace for hours, but he had work to get to as it was only evening. He had to address the small council in a few hours about the weddings and there were a lot of arrangements to be made for the weddings only 2 days away. He got up, and Andromeda groaned, ‘I wish we could stay like this for hours Tywin’ as she turned on her belly and propped herself on her elbows.

‘We can, after all this hubbub dies down’, he said, vaguely pointing to the doors and what lied outside it, while pulling his doublet on him and buckling the sword belt. He knew it was a lie, there would never be rest for him while he was the Hand to the King. But he would lie to his wife if it made her feel better. _It was a comfort he allowed her._

As if reading his mind, ‘The hubbub will _never_ die down for so long as we are in King’s Landing’, she groaned again, visibly upset at the entire capital for keeping her husband away from her. His heart warmed at her innocence.

‘Then, we may just have to go somewhere else’, he said, with the final clasp of his doublet. He ran his fingers run along the bottom of her foot closest to him, earning a gasp from his naked wife as she pulled her leg away and watched him leave.

As he walked into his solar, he felt renewed energy as he called out for his squire to fetch some water. And instead he was met by his daughter, who judging by the scowl on her face, had been sitting there for a long time and had presumably heard everything that had transpired in the bed chamber. _His guards were about to be thrashed later today._

He felt his fury rise instantly. Coming by unannounced, in the middle of the day, and waiting in his solar, was insubordinate behavior that he will not tolerate from his daughter, even if she was the Queen Mother.

Years of experience in controlling his anger allowed him to stay in a level headed state as he settled into his chair.

She did not answer as he drank the entire cup of water and waited for his undivided attention, which never came on her, since he promptly took his quill in his hand and resumed the report which he was correcting before he was _interrupted_ by his wife. Feeling her eyes creep into his head, and realizing that this will all be over sooner if he just goes along with her antics, he looked up at her. Gods, how she reminded him of Joanna then. It had been a while since he had actively thought about her.

“You wanted to speak to me”, he said resuming his writing.

“Yes, about Jaime”, she said.

“What about him?” he strung out, barely hiding his annoyance.

“I wanted to make sure we’re doing everything we can to get him back”, she said with a smile, as if she were hinting at something.

Tywin lost his calm. “When Catelyn Stark took Tyrion her prisoner, what did I do in response?” his annoyance visible now.

“You started a war”, she said without a pause.

“If I would start a war for that lecherous little stump, what do you think I’m doing for my eldest son and heir?”

“Whatever you can”.

“Whatever I can”, he nodded at her response, hoping it was the end of this ridiculous conversation. But when she didn’t budge, he asked her again, “why are you still here?”

“The Tyrells and the Panthyraals are a problem”, she said.

He did not even dignify that with a response. She continued nevertheless.

“Margery has her claws in Joffrey”, she left it hanging, for him to understand the corollary of the statement. _About Andromeda._ He was in no mood to have this conversation. If he wouldn’t have been upstairs _with_ Andromeda, he would have reacted in a far worse manner, of that he was sure. But she had still spiked his ire. 

“The Tyrells helped us defeat Stannis Baratheon. The Tyrells saved your life, your children’s lives. The Panthyraals are helping us defeat Robb Stark. The Panthyraals have saved the life of your brother and are helping rescue him.” he said, as if he were explaining it to a child. A insolent child.

“She knows how to manipulate him.” With good sense, Cersei did not broach the topic about his wife further and focused on Margery instead. _For now._

His face remained entirely passive as he said, “I wish you knew how to manipulate him. I don’t distrust you because you’re a woman. I distrust you because you’re not as smart as you think you are. You’ve allowed the boy to ride roughshod over you and everyone else in this city”.

“Perhaps, you should try stopping him from doing what he likes”, she said softly, like a secret.

“I will”, he said, dismissing her.

The rest of the day, he was grumpy. He was furious at Cersei for hinting at Andromeda having her claws in him. He hated the fact that somebody saw him and Andromeda and saw his weak father with his harlot in them. Andromeda was the key to the east and yet his daughter looked at her and saw a harlot. If anything, Andromeda was the key to securing the legacy of the Lannister house. He saw it so plainly, and yet Cersei couldn’t. Blinded by pride and rage. He spent a few good minutes to think of what his daughter was when she wasn’t blinded by pride and rage, but he couldn’t, so he gave up. 

Even Tyrion saw this, since the day of his wedding, Tyrion has been friendly towards Andromeda and respectful towards Tywin. He had stopped his drunk antics and of late had started taking a sincere interest in his position as Master of Coin and Treasurer of the Crown. Andromeda could be seen having lunch with Tyrion frequently in the gardens of the Hand, and it seemed that she genuinely enjoyed his company. Andromeda would also sometimes bring out Eddard Stark’s daughter with her when she would lunch with Tyrion and Tywin could see that there was a friendship forming between the betrothed couple, all because of Andromeda. _She was smart._ Which his daughter clearly wasn’t. 

If by claws, what she meant was giving Lord Alizaar a seat on the Small Council, then there was no one more stupid than his daughter. A seat on the Small Council was the least that the Crown can do for the battalions of men and the amount of grain and coal that was pouring from Tygrysaar continuously. Lord Alizaar had sent 30 thousand men after Jaime and yet there were enough men left in King’s Landing that he could sack it and claim it for himself. _If he wanted. Or if he was upset at any of them._

When his head hit the pillow, his mind though numb to an extent because of the wine, was still roiling over Cersei’s implications. He knew how unhappy she was with her own betrothal to Lord Willas, he did not expect her to be this unhappy about his wedding to Andromeda. His last thoughts before his mind turned dark were of his legacy, which was tied to Andromeda and how she was being mistaken by his own family, as a small hand of a certain sleepy lady had crept up to rest on his chest.

~-oOo-~

For the first time, Andromeda was up before her husband. She was too excited to sleep since it was the day of Tyrion’s wedding. She had been planning this wedding to its last detail and today she will see the fruit of her hard work. She had pestered Tywin incessantly for every small thing until he had roared at her to leave him alone. The memory brought a smile to her face as she remembered how at dinner that night Tywin had sat with her and answered every question she had asked then, as his form of apology. This was Tywin for her. What he did not say with his words, his actions did.

She crawled up to her husband who was sleeping on his side facing her. She pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek and caressed him. This was her Tywin. This was the version she liked best. When he was asleep at night, sometimes she would spend hours staring at him and touching innocuous parts of him simply because she could. During the day, Tywin was like a lion. One could not simply scratch his mane or scratch behind his ears, or even look at him for too long without facing dire consequences. But when he was asleep, Andromeda would kiss him and caress him as she pleased. Her prize would be when the lion would purr or paw at her and bring her closer to him.

She was lost in her thoughts and did not notice the emerald green eyes looking straight at her as her hand was absentmindedly stroking his cheek. When earlier, he had burst on her for doing so, driving her away from him, today he just closed his eyes again, feeling her fingers comb through his beard. When she kissed his lips with a feathery kiss not meant to wake him up, he took her by surprise then. He pulled her in one fell swoop over him and pressed her on him, feeling her laughter reverberate through his chest, tickling her in her belly.

When she had pleaded for him to stop between bouts of laughter, he had finally stopped, but not before holding her over him and pulling her down to kiss on her lips, holding her face in his hands. What he had not expected was for Andromeda to sit on him, rubbing on his semi erect cock while deepening the kiss. His breath was hitched in his throat as she continued rubbing. He could feel the heat of her cunt from the thin material of her smock. His hands travelled down her breasts to her ass, moving her in a way he liked and then lifted the smock up to her waist as she worked in removing his breeches. She freed his cock and started rubbing it slowly over the tip, making it wet before moving down his length and coming back up. A moan left his lips as her finger tips touched the tip of his cock, which when she realized, kept repeating, spreading the wet all over the tip. He could not take the teasing any longer. He firmly held her by her waist positioning over his dick and watched as she guided it inside her heat. She stopped midway, putting her palms on his chest as her eyes were pressed shut and a primal, guttural moan left her throat and she took it all in. It was his turn to groan now. She sat still for a few seconds, adjusting to his girth, before she started rocking slowly, trying to find the rhythm that suited her. His hands went from her waist to her heavy breasts and he cupped them, transfixed by their motion when she moved on his cock, getting confident in her movements. He knew she was not about to last long when her moans got louder and monosyllabic. What first started as Tywin had become Ty and now it was just T as she rocked on him. When she peaked, she nearly got off him, being too sensitive to any sensations inside her, but he held her there, watching her have strongest orgasm till now. He followed her, as he held her in the air and thrust up at her, pounding in her till he came inside her. He then lifted her off him, setting her down, where she stretched her limbs and attempted to catch her breath.

Proud of himself, he got off the bed, taking in the glorious sight of his naked sated wife stretched on his bed. ‘I will never get tired of this sight’, he said to himself as he went to get ready for the day, while Andromeda slept, having forgotten that today was Tyrion’s wedding day.


	16. Lord Tyrion's wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Tyrion's wedding to Lady Sansa, a pivotal moment in Westerosi history, but for Andy, it holds a different sentimental value.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,   
> Do you want me to make a mood board of sorts for the coming chapters? Or for House Panthyraal? Or for anything else? Please do tell in the comments section below 🌻🌞

Standing inside the Sept, he took stock of the people who had gathered for the wedding of his youngest son. After two very expensive weddings, that too, in the times of war, the wedding of Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa was a somber affair. _Ironic though, how the union of Starks and the Lannisters, an event of unprecedented nature, was such a simple affair._ An afternoon wedding at the end of spring. This was partly because King Joffrey had protested spending more than a certain amount on the wedding of Sansa, or the ‘wolf bitch’ as he called her dotingly; and partly because Former Queen Regent Cersei had protested the same for Tyrion, or the ‘lecherous dwarf’ as she called him lovingly. Nonetheless, Lady Andromeda and Queen Margery had worked hard to make it as elegant as possible. Tywin looked at the railing along the stairs of the Sept and the walls, covered with white peonies, and nodded approvingly. A Lannister wedding, no matter how difficult the circumstances, demands a certain level of flair, which the brides of the Lannister family had understood deeply, and for that the patriarch was satisfied. Outwardly though, Lord Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the King, and the imperious Warden of the West showed no change in his impassive countenance. He stood at the steps leading to the dais. One step below him stood his daughter, and he could feel the anger dissipate from the thick material of her dress.

His wife was nowhere to be seen. _Not that he sought her out as such._ But keen observers such as Lord Kevan could see that Lord Tywin, who would **never** be seen skimming the crowd searching for anybody, was today, glancing at the door every few minutes, whenever somebody entered through the grand doors, and keener observers still such as Lord Tyrion, observed that his eyes rolled at everybody who entered, for they were not Lady Andromeda.

Lord Tywin knew that his wife had spent the morning with Lady Sansa, helping her get ready for the wedding. The last few weeks, Lady Andromeda would be seen lunching or taking a walk in the gardens with her future daughter-in-law. Lord Tywin was not the only one, who could see how this prudence of Lady Andromeda to help Sansa Stark feel welcome, was a well thought- of move. Well, not everybody saw the good sense of it; for instance, Lady Cersei had still been as cold and cutting to Sansa Stark since the day her father was beheaded. Lord Kevan could not decide what was a bigger mistake, beheading Lord Eddard Stark or not bringing his daughter to their fold sooner.

When the bells started ringing, people straightened in their pews and faced the Holy Septon as the carriages could be heard arriving. Lord Tywin straightened, when he heard his daughter scoff, signaling that the northern bride was about to arrive. King Joffrey stood at the entrance, adamant on escorting the girl being the ‘proclaimed father of the realm’. Tywin scoffed at his rationale then, but thought it too small to admonish him for. _Afterall, his fool of a grandson would give him more opportunities to scold him, before the night is over._ He watched Joffrey keenly though, for any signs of him about to throw a tantrum. The bell rang for one last time as Lady Andromeda stood at the entrance of the Sept. All eyes on her, she walked gracefully down the aisle. She wore a red gown made of the finest silk with embroidery of gold thread and beads on it. To an untrained eye it would seem as if the gown ended right above her chest, but a very thin lace held it around her neck, almost invisible. The sleeves were till her wrists and were made of the same invisible lace but had gold work on it. It seemed as if her arms were etched with gold, like a goddess. She also had a shawl on her elbows, which as she walked closer Tywin realized was his velvet sash. _Somewhere inside of him, a small fire of pride was lit._ She wore dangling earrings of pure gold and her hair was parted in the middle and loosely tied behind her. As she walked amongst the Lords and Ladies of the realm, everyone gasped audibly at her beauty. Tywin had witnessed the intoxicating effect beauty had on others, but he had never seen such a consummate example of it before he had seen his wife. She wore a smile on her face and held a basket from which she threw petals of white rose for the northern bride to walk on. When she reached the first step, where Tywin stood, she smiled up at him, and he was sure he heard a few ladies in the Sept gasp at their display of affection. To tease them more, he stroked her cheek and pushed a strand of lose hair behind her ear, and he heard cheers from the crowd. Lady Andromeda blushed and stood beside him, closer than propriety dictated, but Tywin did not care. Although his visage did not show any outward changes, Kevan and Tyrion noticed how Tywin’s eyes were softer when he looked in her direction. _Just how the sun gets softer when it glances at the sea._ Notice did Cersei too, how the crowd responded to her beauty and their interactions, combined with the rumors she heard about the daily attention her father gave this tiger lady, made her seethe inwardly. “…until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.” Cersei stood straighter as an involuntary shiver ran down her spine, leaving her mind foggy for a few seconds.

The ceremony itself had been quite conventional, nothing too radical. Though Tywin had to physically stop Joffrey from taking away the stool out from under Tyrion as he draped the Lannister cloak over Sansa’s slender shoulders. As the tall fabric of the cloak settled on her shoulders, there was a sigh that he released involuntarily as he saw another part of his legacy secured. He was reminded of the game of chess, all the plotting and planning to secure his king, his legacy to victory. If he was the king on the board, his foreign wife was the queen, the lady with the most contribution to his legacy and also, but if turned against him could turn the entire tide against him. His children were the knights, with the ability to hop over and above the enemies, but also be hoodwinked just as easily. As the metaphor turned trite in his mind, he let it go, presently concentrating on the couple walking out the Sept with humble patters of praise around them. Tywin clapped too, and clap did Andromeda as she saw a small smile pass between the bride and the groom.

~oOo~

The night had fallen slowly, as it does on the last days of spring and Andromeda felt nothing but contentment in her heart. She sat at the wedding reception of her closest and possibly, first friend in King’s Landing. Lord Tyrion sat at the head of the table, engaged in a spirited conversation with his young bride and judging by the frequent smiles on the face of Sansa Stark, she seemed to be enjoying it too. If Andy could capture this moment, she would have. The music mingled perfectly with the cool air of the ocean. Although the hall was too small for dancing, people had somehow pushed the tables to the sides and were dancing in the center under the chandelier. Such was the effect of good music and good wine. The musicians were bid to play happier songs, rowdier songs and as the bagpipe got louder, Andromeda looked at a very shy Lady Sansa being asked to a dance by her Lord Husband, who was surprisingly not as drunk as everyone hoped to be. He was somber, some might say even cheerful and Lady Sansa was holding herself quite well.

Andy saw her and she saw a young girl in the land of strangers, nay, **enemies**. She couldn’t imagine for one second how she’d feel if Orion was at war with the Crown and she was being forced to marry into the House of his enemies. How terribly alone she must feel, Andy could not even fathom. She made a silent prayer to the gods, if they were listening, to be kind to this young girl. Sansa’s strong jaw and her straight posture told her that she was not the stupid girl that everyone thought she was. Andy had spent enough time with her to know that beneath her timid exterior was an intelligent, strong woman. In their long walks, they had talked about her wedding to Lord Tyrion, and even though Sansa was reticent and albeit scared to marry Tyrion, she had adapted quickly and accepted her fate. Andy had deliberately made a point to invite them both out to lunches together, hoping that the more time they spend together, the more they’d form a sort of friendship, and what was a good marriage if not a good friendship? Andy sipped some more of the delicious wine. There was something in the air that made her feel giddy.

She realized that she wanted to dance. Her lord husband had not once asked her to dance, but in his defense, Lords of his stature did not _dance_. She found that her thoughts often circled around Tywin these days. She thought of him in the way one would be reminded of the Blackwater Bay. Although one wouldn’t always see the ocean from the depths of the Keep, but every once in a while, when there was a slice of silence, you could hear the ocean around you. In the kitchens and the hubbub of the Throne Room, over the chaos of men you could feel the reverberations of the sea reminding you of its presence. It never left, only forgotten for a few seconds when other voices became too loud, and returned to embrace you when the sun settled and the Keep slept. She skimmed the crowd to find him, an easy task, since he was a head taller than almost everybody in the banquet hall. He presently stood with Lady Olenna Tyrell, and by the looks of his taut shoulders, the conversation was not a very pleasant one.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by Apollo. He took the empty seat on her right and sat down without preamble. He turned in his seat to face her, his long legs brushing the fabric of her gown.

“I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk these past days” she said nonchalantly as she watched Aster dancing with one of the Tyrell cousins. The brown-haired girl was blushing as Aster made jests after jests to make her laugh. 

“Yes, with you being busy with the weddings and what not. Married life is treating you well I suppose?” this was Apollo. He would ask a million questions in one. Like her father who got awkward when talking about serious matters with her, he too shied away from the details of her wedded life. 

“Yes, I _suppose_. But I always have time for my family. You haven’t been visiting me. I meet Aster and Archer but you’re nowhere to be seen.” She turned to face him too, sensing something serious in his tone.

“I am riding out tomorrow with another regiment to Harrenhaal. The agitations are getting worse, Jaime has been captured.” He surmised like a missive. His shoulders were squared now. 

“Captured?” she asked incredulously. 

“Yes, by some men of Lord Bolton apparently. He was ambushed by the young wolf’s forces in the Neck and was captured, but later Lady Catelyn, let him go and from there somewhere in the Riverlands and since then there have been no reports of him. So, we are taking 5,000 men to Harrenhaal to ambush Lord Bolton and bring him to his knees.” He looked at her intently, and sighed. There was no inflection in his words. And this worried her immensely. 

“5,000 men seems excessive to ambush Lord Bolton, don’t you think?” she was puzzled by all of this. A small part of her felt hurt that neither her Lord Husband or her Lord Father had deemed her important to tell her about this progression in the war.

“Well from Harrenhaal, we will regroup and catch the Stark forces unawares.” He said simply, as if it was the reasonable next step. 

“This is a big moment for you brother. This is _your_ moment.” She said, holding his large hand in hers. They were calloused and rough, but warm. “Are you… scared?” she added in a small voice only a sister could get away with.

“Scared?? Have you seen me Andy?” he said incredulously, motioning towards his body and baring his teeth in a cocky smile. His eyes flashed like that of a proud tiger. Andy almost braced herself for all the quips and comments that were about to fall on her. A moment later, however Apollo’s face changed. “No, its just…” he trailed off slowly. His eyes were fixed over Aster and the young girl, or so Andy thought, as she followed his eyes and saw him looking at another couple, where the man was making jokes that made the tall girl with red hair smile.

And suddenly Andromeda realized something. The reason why he had been distant lately was because she had started spending time with Lord Tyrion, and the reason why he did not attend the ceremony was… **it all fit.** All the pieces fell together suddenly as her eyes grew wide with realization.

“You like Lady Sansa.” She said it. it was not a question, it was a statement. Her hands were now clasped around his. He could not hide it any longer. His silence was confirmation enough. “How long have you known Apollo, and in the same breath, “why didn’t you tell me?!”

Her exasperation was apparent. They had shared everything before her wedding. Every little secret was shared among them. It had been so since the day they were born, and suddenly, there was distance between them.

“Because she is a Stark and I can’t marry a Stark.” He said as a matter of fact, as if it was an answer. It was barely a sentence. Andy’s annoyance grew. 

“Marriage? How _serious_ is it Apollo? Do you love her? You barely know her.” she felt as if she did not know the man in front of her. The familiar face of her brother turned into a stranger’s then.

He shrugged and looked at the crowd. In the crowd was a pretty girl dancing with an ugly dwarf.

“Apollo”, she said holding his hands in hers, “brother, she is married…” she pleaded to him. He did not withdraw his hands from hers. He did not know how he felt, only that he felt cold, and her hands were warm. Her eyes were what he imagined his mother’s eyes to look like, only he had not seen her eyes. She had died giving birth to them. Andy was all that he had for a mother.

“I know. Getting away from here will help, wont it?” and he gave a smile, which was too sad. _How can somebody’s smile look so sad?_

She nodded in response; she had never seen this side of him. Aster was the sensitive one, he wrote about love and grief, and cried and laughed, but Apollo, being the eldest one, if only by a minute, was always cloaked with a sense of responsibility. He was the one who would run into the dark head first and he was the one who made sure she was safe. She had never seen this side of him, she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to cry for her brother. He deserved all the happiness in the world but it was not up to her to bestow it upon him, so she prayed a silent prayer to the cruel Gods above that please protect his brother. It was then that probably, even for a single second, she understood how Sansa must’ve felt every single day. She was interrupted from her sad thoughts by a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see Aster and Archer standing behind her. They hugged her then as Apollo pulled them all in an embrace. There, in the folds of her brothers was where she would feel the most at peace she was about to feel in a long time. She did not know then, that this was one of the last times she would be with all three of her brothers around her. If you could store memories in perfume bottles, she would’ve kept this embrace, and when times would get difficult, she would rub it on her neck, hoping to be enveloped by her brothers once more. If only she knew, that this was the last time they would all be standing together like this, she would’ve never let them go, but alas, the cruel gods were humming their eternal song, and Tywin had just cleared his throat to let his presence known.

He had a look in his face that told them that it was time to go, and she got up gracefully, took his arm and left the halls. Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa had just left a few moments ago, and the King was asked to retire too, and this was as good a time as any to leave.

What Tywin would never tell her was how alone he had felt when he had seen his wife surrounded by her brothers in a warm embrace. He had felt a pang of dumb jealousy for the Panthyraals who were so close to each other that they made everyone else feel excluded. He thought of his brothers then, Kevan, Gerion and Tygett and thought of his sister Genna, but for the life of him could not remember a time when they had embraced each other, if even for a moment, even when they were infants.

It also made his heart warm, to see that his wife was surrounded by brothers who would protect her and her children if anything were to happen to him. Andromeda was not alone. Andromeda was not Sansa. She would never be this helpless. She would never be timid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies, my loves. Days have been slow, and inspiration, slower still. I hope this chapter soothes your weary hearts. Keep showing your love!


	17. Farewell, Apollo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apollo leaves for war, and Andromeda is enveloped in grief. Tywin, however, is enveloped in an entirely polar emotion as he uncovers the past of his wife and the Viper.

It was a bright, sunny afternoon. And yet, as she stood in the Great Hall, no warmth reached Andy. Only grief. A thick cotton ball of grief had formed in her throat, and every time she looked at Apollo, or his horse, or at all the men that were saying their farewells to their families, the ball grew bigger. They were waiting for the arrival of their Lord Father, and the rest of the Small Council. She stood amongst known faces; her brothers, her friends Lord Tyrion, Lady Sansa and Queen Margery, and a dozen other known faces stood in the Great Hall, and yet Andy felt cold. _Lonely._ Though outwardly, Andy showed no signs of weaknesses. She was a Panthyraal, and Panthyraals never showed their weak side. **_We Rule We Conquer We Rule We Conquer We Rule We Conquer_** , Andy’s little heart beat the brave words of her house but today they gave her no hope. She had been in the same hall once before, saying goodbye to somebody close to her, and that day now seemed like a lifetime ago. _Jaime._ It had been years since she had thought about him. Somewhere, maybe, there was a dull ache of an old wound, but new responsibilities and new roles had given her enough time to heal, and yet, a dumb dull ache still remained somewhere. _Jaime. Do our old dreams ever leave us?_ Where there was rage and fury for breaking her trust, hatred unbound for the man who cheated her of a future that he had promised her, now lay a silent pray for his safety and well-being. To say that Andy had forgotten Jaime would be a bare faced lie, for she still remembered him, in her nothingness. She was the wife of an important man, and the daughter of an even more important one, so most of her days were spent being alone. And that’s when his company was missed. _His presence._ The silence that was shared while sipping tea, the lull of a conversation when both parties look around and find something else to talk about, the comfort of sitting alone in the barracks while her brothers trained, the lonely walks back to the Tower of the Hand after having spent an afternoon with Lady Sansa and Queen Margery, and the knowing glances of Lord Tyrion at the empty chair on their usual table by the sea; all reminded Andy of Jaime. She tried not to remember the ugliness of it. The discovery of his secret, “their” secret, that evening where she cried her heart out to the sea, and most of all, their farewell. She tried to remember the beauty of it, for all of it was not ugly. This was her way of forgiving him, for forgiving the cruel hand of "destiny" or whoever that was responsible for them. _Them. The "them" that never happened._ In but a few months of marriage, Andromeda had realized that Jaime was never going to be a good partner to her, they shared companionship, not love. But still, for the sake of that friendship, she hated how she said farewell to him. That night in the Great Hall stood in harsh light against this afternoon, and the corners of Andy’s eyes felt misty. **_We Rule We Conquer_** , drummed her heart, louder.

She took a deep breath and looked at Apollo. His back was facing hers, and when Andy blinked her teary eyes, she saw him. _Jaime._ His tall frame, his blonde hair that framed his face. He turned and smiled at her the easy smile that reached his eyes and lit up his entire face. Always in a funny mood, he joked about something and laughed easily. Andy felt a shiver run through her body, and she blinked again, to find Apollo. His head was shaved, as was the custom of Panthyraal men who were going to war. He wore his official mail plate armor and his face was broken into a stiff smile. She walked up to them, her brothers, her closest confidants and like clockwork, all three of them looked at her and smiled, and that’s when she was made aware of how similar her three mirrors were. Archer put an arm around her shoulders, and Aster continued his story of what transpired with the Tyrell girl with even more animated and lewd hand gestures to make Andy laugh. And laugh she did, but her laughter was hollow with pain. Even looking at Apollo was painful, and yet she could not stop looking at him. As if her mind’s eye was trying to capture every little thing about Apollo, not knowing when it would get to see him again.

Suddenly, the crowd around her parted like a low tide and Andy felt a familiar presence. Tywin stood behind her, leaving a respectable distance between them, and yet Andy could feel him around her. Every fibre of her being wanted to cross the distance of barely one step and lean on him. She wanted him to hold her, while she wept in his chest. To stroke her hair, and reassure her that her brother will return safely. That what happened to Jaime, will not befall on Apollo. But alas, the distance of one step was too far for her to cross alone, so cross she never did. She stood there, away from him by a respectable distance. He would not draw her in his arms, that was for sure. Apart from the occasional glance and words, they rarely interacted outside the confines of the Tower. Even inside their private quarters, their interactions were minimal and functional, and mostly initiated by Andy. They spent most of their days apart, and what little they saw of each other, they were still getting accustomed to. Would she love to spend more time with him? Know more about her husband outside of the Iron Court? Would she prefer that he sought her out some time? Initiate conversations and intimacies? Enjoy her presence and not just endure it? Would she prefer to have her own husband, away, for some time, just for herself, and not for the realm?

Sometimes it was as if she was alone in their marriage, alone to work, love and understand, while her husband had the weight of the entire realm on his shoulders. She felt like a burden, that was laden on him. And to somebody who already had the entire realm to think of, how could someone ask them of their time? Somebody who was in and out of meetings and the Court, who never slept before midnight, and always woke before dawn, how could she ask them of their presence? Their time is their most prized possession, and she could not ask just that. How could you ask somebody to think about them in their spare time, when you know they have no spare time, for the world would stop if they were to stop. It was far too intimate, and Andy did not feel as if she had earned it yet. Although that is what she needed of her husband. So like a needle tied to a thread, she silently bobbed in and out of his life, finding small unnoticed slivers where she could exist in the same plane as him, small moments where his time belonged to nobody but her, however rare it was. She knew, she would never cross the distance herself, however much she wanted to; and if she did, she was unsure how her Lord Husband would react. He was a language she was trying to learn, but her tongue twisted around the words of him. She practiced it, night and morning. She studied and studied and studied him, but still, she felt like a foreigner in their marriage. 

Andy was brought out from her ministrations with a jolt from her Lord Father. It was time for the Victory Rites to be performed. Andy was shocked at first to see a dozen Panthyrosi priests walk in with their conch shells, but smiled when she realized it was her father’s doing. It was a Panthyrosi custom to blow a spiral conch shell before a war “to declare victory of good over evil”. The loud noise of the conch shells echoed through the Great Hall, and Andy found strength somewhere deep inside of her. She was presented with Apollo’s long sword. The Valyrian steel felt cool in her hands, and she bestowed it upon Apollo. Then, she took the holy vermilion mixed with water and with her fingers drew three dots in the shape of a triangle, right below the hilt, as was their custom. The holy vermilion signified the color of their house and the three dots formed the holy triangle. She kissed the hilt of his sword, which was inlaid with little jades that formed the eyes of the tiger carved on it. She named the sword “Artemis”, after the Eastern Goddess of War. Shouts of 'Artemis' around her echoed through her as well, and a smile at last came on her lips for her brother. She then tied the favor on his right arm. It was a kerchief of purple with red embroidery. As she was tying the favor on his arm, she was reminded of the last time she did this for another soldier off to war. She blinked, and it was nightfall. There were no conch shells and no priests chanting their holy words. A smaller crowd stood around her, and the favor was not purple but a fiery gold. The man who stood in front of her was gold too, his armor his hair, his eyes. This was the first time that she was made aware of how much she missed Jaime, and how she was losing another loved one. She had to physically keep her mind afloat, for the tears were welling in her eyes and she had promised herself that she wont cry, not in front of Apollo. 

Even though outwardly she shed no tears, Tywin could see her shoulder blades taut in her dress and her neck was strained, no doubt trying to not break into a cry. He praised her composure then. She was a true Panthyrosi daughter, she would never shed a tear before war. _His wife was a strong woman._

Tywin was dreading the tears and the mess that any other young girl might have made, which is why he had not informed her that Apollo was to leave, and also, because he felt that her family would already have, considering how many hours a day she spent with them in her family quarters. But Andy had surprised him. Even at night, when he had come to sleep, he had not found her distraught in bed, waiting for him to placate her, but was peacefully asleep, facing the other side. He had expected her to cry in the morning too, which is why he had decided to share breakfast with her, and had skipped his early morning walks around the Keep, but to his dismay, had awoken in bed alone. When he was walking towards the Great Hall, he was involuntarily bracing himself for the impact. Tywin knew how close Andy was to her brothers and he was prepared for all her tears and tantrums, though he was sorely out of practice at consoling young maidens. But Andy had surprised him again as that young girl stood bravely, not having shed a single tear till now. _His wife was a strong woman._

Even now her brothers stood right behind her and managed to joke and lighten the mood. When the three triplets embraced, they completed a picture that was pleasant to everyone’s eyes. They pulled Andromeda in too, bear hugging her, before teasing her for being too short. That made her laugh, as she retorted right back at them, calling them jackasses of the same circus. It was then that Lord Alizaar joined them. He bellowed at his children, almost picking his daughter up before he pulled Apollo in a hug. Apollo’s eyes could be seen glistening then. Alizaar was where his sons got his humor, Tywin realized, as Alizaar joked about Apollo’s lightweight sword, half of his own giant “Absinthe”. In the eyes of Alizaar, Tywin saw the pride that he felt for his own son, Jaime.

Apollo was then greeted by the King, who seemed too scrawny in front of the ‘Eastern Hero’. He joked in a way that warranted no laughter from the crowd, and only Margery had the shame to chuckle softly, as if in apology. Tywin scoffed inwardly; his grandson looked so weak in front of any real warrior. He made a note of doubling his daily training sessions with Lord Commander. Tywin knew too well that a King that appeared weak physically, was taken as a joke, and if the Realm was to accept his daughter’s weak progeny as the King of the Seven Kingdoms, he has to in the least _appear_ strong.

It was his turn to greet him now, he stood eye to eye to his wife’s brother, the Commander of the forces that will bring his eldest son back to him and they each felt genuine admiration for the other. Apollo reminded him of his own younger days, whereas Tywin represented to Apollo everything that he would want to be when he was older. They nodded at each other, shaking hands and with what little words that they exchanged, their admiration for each other was communicated effectively.

It was his time to leave. He mounted his horse and the conch shells were being blown all around him. Little bells were being rung as priests chanted their words even louder. The flag bearers started running and with a final smile, and without looking back, Apollo had ridden off into the sunset.

Tywin observed his wife as she stood leaning on Aster as Apollo finally mounted his black war horse and galloped away, followed by the other commanders of the regiment, out the South Gates. The sun had just started setting and the entire sky was painted purple, as if for the Panthyraals. Andromeda was clutching Aster’s arm as if she would fall if he gave way. In that moment, Tywin wanted nothing but to be the shoulder that Andy was leaning on. But Tywin was not that man, he had made sure he would not be that man. _For anyone else._ He had kept himself as aloof as possible, warranting no affection or warmth. He had never been the one to lean on anybody, nor have anybody lean on him in return. Operating alone, he had never understood the need of relying on somebody else. And, in the little time he had spent married to Andromeda, he had made sure she understood it too. But alas, in that moment, in the deepest of his heart, he wished nothing but to be the man on whom his wife would have leaned on. He would have not been able to comfort her as well as her brothers did, but he would have loved to be given a chance. But Andromeda was not that woman. Andromeda was never _needy_. As soon as Apollo left, Lord Alizaar turned towards her and wiped her wet cheeks. “Now, now my constellation, don’t cry. Your brother is destined for war. For war and for victory.”

Archer also stood there, always the joker, as he said, “For war, for victory and for always being the ugliest of the three”, in perfect mimicry of his father’s voice. Aster, piled on, “For war, for victory and for having the thickest skull out of the three”. They kept on adding on until Andy gave a weak chortle.

Not waiting for everyone to disperse, Tywin left, with his squire at his heel carrying his files. As he passed Andy, he turned to look at her and hold her if she did walk up to him, but Andy was enveloped by her brothers, and so did not look back at him, but somewhere inside of him a dull ball of anger had formed.

He did not know why he was angry but something about how Andromeda had not once acknowledged his presence, made his ire rise. His biggest fear ever since he had married a girl younger than him by decades was that she might by emotionally needy, and he had no patience for that sentiment. Young women, in his opinion, tended to be needy and frivolous emotions overcame them often, and Tywin had no sympathy for it. A flighty girl who would seek him out with every little problem was his worst fear in marrying somebody so young. But the fact that she had not once acknowledged him this entire time, when he had specifically left the meeting in the middle so that he could be there for her was something that did not sit right with him. His anger was targeted towards himself, because he was getting ‘soft’, because he had put somebody so insignificant as her above his duty, and that he had allowed himself to be involved in sentiments that he had no time for. He hated that he needed this from her. That he needed from her that she need him. 

“Why did he care where that girl went to seek comfort? It was good that she did not come crying to him, he had enough on his plate as it is. He did not need a simpering girl on his hand too,” said one part of his mind in a shrill voice. And yet, he did not lose his anger. And the only person who was aware of this was his squire, for it was increasingly difficult for him to keep up with his Lord’s long strides and fast pace.

~-oOo-~

It had been hardly an hour since Tywin had last seen Andy. He was now walking back to his Tower after having had an excruciatingly long meeting with a few southern Lords about the grain supply. His head was thumping dully as he crossed the Royal gardens. The warm saccharine air of casterly bells wafted in the air and Tywin breathed deeply, trying to soothe his mind. It was then, at that moment that he spotted them. A tall man and a woman. _His wife. The Viper._ They were coming up the way that led to the sea. A mere cursory glance was all that he afforded them, but the image was stuck in his head. His wife was walking with Prince Oberyn, and was listening intently to him, judging by his animated movements. Tywin was not unaware of the old friendship of their Houses. He had observed them on the night of Joffrey’s wedding reception too. _Old friends indeed._ Prince Oberyn’s hatred for him was not a fact hidden from anybody. Tywin, of all people, knew well how much the Prince despised his guts. _If he could have, Oberyn would have killed Tywin long ago._ Who would be a better target, or say instrument, of Oberyn’s hatred, or even mutiny, than his innocent wife who happened to be his “old friend”? His steps grew quicker, his mouth suddenly dry for some wine, and his mind for some blood.

As soon as he reached his solar, the image of Lady Olenna pierced him like another prick. His guards were about to get a good thrashing, after this meeting is over, noted Tywin. He breathed deeply, “Lady Olenna, to what do I owe this surprise visit?” “I was just passing by Lord Tywin, I thought I might visit an old friend.” Tywin almost chuckled when he saw the face of the old prune. The fact that Lady Olenna thought this tactic might work on him, almost made him laugh. He walked to the table with the wine, and poured himself a sizable goblet of it. He offered to pour his adversary one too, but she refused, citing health reasons. “Ah, you’ve not been keeping well?” he teased, taking his place. “My health is a finely tuned harp, Tywin. It requires a lot of upkeep.” “And a lot of figs,” piped Tywin, offering her the figs that his servant had just brought in. “you spoil me, Tywin,” Lady Olenna said, taking a fat fig and biting into it. Tywin observed her keenly, until he was reminded of a tortoise eating a berry, and then he had to avert his eyes, for he was about to laugh openly.

He drank his wine in silence, until she resumed. “And, how is married life treating you, Tywin? How is it, babysitting an Eastern Princess at this age? Your knees must be killing you.” Olenna was never subtle in her jokes, and Tywin appreciated her for it. He laughed in response, “well, as far as babysitting goes, Lady Andromeda is quite grown, and far as my knees go, I think there’s still some years left in them yet. Sadly, the same cannot be said for your son. I heard he still hasn’t recovered the dangerous fall in the shrubberies on the day of my wedding.” “My son is a buffoon with the head of a man, I don’t have any expectations from him,” replied Olenna with a bark. “All jokes aside, I do think that your wife is a smart woman. And I haven’t found many smart ones, in my many years. Scheming, lying bitches, yes absolutely, on every corner, but a good, smart woman, well that is a rarity. And a beauty too. You might have just found yourself a diamond, Tywin.” “Trust me, Lady Olenna, I am well aware.” “It’s a shame however, that she was married to you and not Prince Oberyn.” And then when Tywin did not reply in any form, she continued, “were you not aware of this? Prince Oberyn had asked for her hand plenty of times, before he resorted to whoring like he has. He was not always like _this_ ,” she said gesturing vaguely, “they were childhood friends, and it had developed into a love of sorts, as these things do. But Lord Alizaar had bigger aspirations, and he refused. All three times. Cruel, if you ask me, to stand in old love’s way.” “If I had known this before, it would still not have changed anything, Lady Olenna.” “Of course not, for you are a smart man, Tywin. Still, if I were you, I’d be wary of the Viper. You know what they say, a viper will change his skin, not his fangs. I should be going now; it is nearly time for me to sleep.” And with that, Lady Olenna hobbled away. But Tywin kept sitting in the dark, until his servants came to light the lamps and candles. 


	18. A Moon's Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been over a moon since Apollo has left for war. Tensions are rising around Andy and between her and Tywin as well.

Andromeda was sitting on the chaise lounge in her chambers. The night had just fallen. It was her favorite time of the day. The few minutes where the sky had fallen dark, but the candles had not been lit yet. The time when for a few seconds, the dark enveloped the entire room. It overcame her, like ocean water. And then, the servants would teeter in, and light the candles around her and she would open her eyes to a room enlightened, and everything would feel warm once again. As if the room was pulled out of the cold water, and brought back to life.

But tonight, something was amiss. It had been more than a moon's turn since Apollo had left. Since his departure, a lot of things had changed for Andromeda. Ever since Apollo had left, it was as if a part of her was absent. She was painfully aware of his absence, all of them were. She felt empty sometimes and found herself praying most of the times. Praying to the Goddess of War, to watch over her brother and all of his men. But alas, life did not stop outside the temple.

Tensions in the North were rising. Robb Stark was marching South with a growing army. Reports of him winning in Oxcross and Cragnog had resulted in the War Council holding meetings for hours on end, it seemed to Andromeda. They did not even depart for dinner or lunch; Andromeda should know, since her husband headed the meetings and she had not seen him out in daylight recently. The only time she saw him was late at night, when she could often not sleep and she would walk around the Towers to soothe her agitated mind. Like a ghost in a library, she could see him in his solar, a candle flickering on his large table and he enveloped in its light. It seemed like the worries of war gnawed at him too like they gnawed at her any time she tried to sleep. But alone in his solar, he would sit and pour his anxiety on his papers, like she would in her prayers. It was not as if they did not notice each other’s presence, but each too tired and untangled in his worries, did not reach out to the other. _And so, they remained, like two solitary soldiers fighting the same battle._

Men and supplies were arriving steadily from Tygrysaar, and Andy knew what this meant. It meant war. Archer and Aster could rarely be seen inside the Keep. They were riding out to the Panthyrosi camps to oversee their training. Their father would divide his time between the War Council and the Panthyraal camps. Andromeda hardly ever saw them, and when she did, she had nothing to say to them.

It was implied, that soon, her husband was to leave for war as well. He was supposed to take the charge to Harrenhall, where the majority of Lannister forces had gathered, while the Panthyrosi forces would protect King’s Landing. This however, was not discussed with her, as she would have hoped, but told to her in passing by her brothers. The realization that their relationship only extended to a rarely shared bed and nothing else for her husband hit her hard then. She was visibly upset with him then, but he did not notice, for he was almost invisible from her life _. Like a dream, that creeps up on you in the dead of the night, and disappears with the first rays of the sun, her husband existed in her life now._ She knew that something was up with him, but she did not think of herself being so important to him, that she could just go and make space for herself in his life, and he had made it amply clear that he did not want her in his life. Her pride forbade her from running after her husband for a semblance of contact. If he did not want her, be it so. She would not seek him too. 

Andy did not realize where time had slipped, for she was woken up from her musings by her handmaiden, Alya. “My lady, you must get ready for dinner.” The shrillness and exasperation of Alya’s voice suggested that this was not the first time she had tried to get her mistress’ attention. She got up begrudgingly and slipped of her gown to get ready for dinner, her mind still caught between three worlds.

At the dinner table however, Andy was alone as usual. Her father, who had promised to dine with her was also nowhere to be seen. She must have waited for an hour, judging by the goblets of wine she drank in frustration, before she asked the servants to serve her food. Every bite she took, anger was an added flavor, it was just not clear at whom it was directed. Her father never stood her up without reason. She clearly remembered sending a message with his squire, not wanting to interrupt his meeting with the Small Council, that she wished to dine with him, but the fact that he had not even sent a message to signal his absence, and just not come to dine with her really upset her.

Everybody had decided to leave her, it seemed to her. Furious at all the men in her life, she went to bed hungry.

The next day, her father sent for her. Angrily, she got dressed and went to his Tower, thinking of all the taunts she would make to make him realize his mistake. As she was sitting out in the common hall, chewing on a cashew, for a moment she felt like her old self again. The sun was streaming in brilliantly through the open windows and she could hear the chirping of birds with the gurgling of the fountain outside. It was then that she caught _him._

He came out of her father’s solar and judging by his eyes, he was also surprised to see her out in daylight. He stopped in his tracks, “Tywin-” she stood up instinctively. “I haven’t seen you for a while.” This matter-of-fact statement also slipped out of her. _But how do you address your husband when he has not bothered to meet you for the past moon? What do you tell him for not coming to bed? And could she tell that to Tywin?_ If it would’ve been any other man, she would’ve scolded him, outright. He would’ve known her wrath. But Tywin was not ‘any other man’. He was _Tywin_ _Lannister, the Great Lion,_ and as intimate as she had been with him on occasions, she could not lie to herself by saying that he did not intimidate her. For all the rehearsals she had done sitting in her room with Linney were forgotten. She could not think of anything to say except just scream at him and hoping he would get it.

“I apologize my lady, I have been busy with matters that required my attention,” replied Tywin as if he was explaining it to his grandson Tommen. His condescending tone made her furious. She nodded curtly, and walked inside the solar, leaving without affording him a glance.

A few minutes later, her father walked in. He sat down in front of her and bid the servants start the lunch. Andromeda sat in silence; her eyes fixed at a point in the distance. A kite was stuck in a tree in the distance. Her father coughed, as he was used to, to signal his presence. Unwillingly, Andy looked at her father. Her father’s face looked pensive. Under his wise eyes, however, was hesitation.

“I will just come out and say it. I am sorry constellation that I did not join you for dinner yesterday,” her father said taking her hands in his. She did not withdraw. His warm hands comforted her. But she did not say anything. Filling the silence, he said, “everybody has been very busy, difficult days are upon us, I am sure you understand child.” Andromeda finally looked at him and nodded. Looking at his broken face, she smiled at him, and in return her father’s face shone. Andromeda noticed that her father looked older than the last time she saw him. She squeezed his hands and Alizaar asked for lunch to be served.

They sat in comfortable silence, occasionally commenting on the soft bread or the firm cheese. It was not until Andy took the first bite of the garlic mutton and she realized just how hungry she had been. Andy could not figure out if the happiness she felt was from the hot food or from being close to her father. She finished one flatbread and was about to pick up her second when her father slowly said, “has something happened between you two?” He seemed as if already shy of the answer he was about to get.

“Between who two?” Andy was in a mood to humor. She served some potato onion gravy on her plate and on his plate as well. Picking a fat potato with her bread, she looked at him. Her father was trying to hide his awkwardness and it was amusing her. 

“You and your husband. I sensed some friction. Some tension, perhaps?” He was not meeting her eyes.

“Maybe you should ask your dear friend instead. Since he spends more time with you than he does with me.” With this Andy focused on the food presented in front of her. Breaking the flatbread with her hands, she scooped some more gravy with it and began chewing, angrily. Her father began too, though far less angry. The topic was not broached, with good caution. Her father shifted to talking about mangoes, and Andy, thankful for the change, happily obliged. They talked of the wedding of her cousin brother.

Andy enjoyed the rest of her lunch, then. But when she was about to get up, her father held her by her wrist, “I know he is a busy man, as I was. And your mother was just as troubled by it, as you are. So, I will suggest to you something that she often did, and that is, talk to him. Tell him exactly what is bothering you. There are far too many people in this Keep alone who would love to watch you torn apart, and your marriage is already as delicate as it is. Talk to him. You must bridge the distance between yourself and him before it becomes too easy for others to hurt you both.” Andy simply nodded in response. Although she could see the good sense of her father’s words, she knew in her heart that she was not going to be the first to approach him. Pride had overshadowed Andy’s sensibility. She left her father’s towers when the sun was just about to set. As she crossed the Royal Gardens, a familiar presence enveloped her. Like a cat jumps on its prey, Prince Oberyn appeared in front of her.

There was one part of her that gave him the benefit of doubt. He had been her childhood friend after all. She still remembered swimming in the river with him and her brothers, eating stolen mangoes. Making swings out of palm tree fronds and jute, and roasting sunflower seeds on a bonfire. She had spent most of her summers strung halfway between Tygrysaar and Sunspear.

“May I join you, Lady Andromeda?”

_Seems like you already have._ “Yes, Prince Oberyn. I was just going back to the Tower.” Hoping that he might catch her drift and get to his point.

“I know of a way that leads to the beautiful bay, and I would love to show it to you. I’m sure nobody has taken you there.”

Not to sound rude, she went along with him. After all, he was a Prince and his alliance was essential now more than ever to her Father. The Martells controlled the majority of trade in parts of East. “So, Andy, what have you been up to? I hardly get to see you. It seems I’ve lost two special ladies to Tywin.” _Never subtle. Always suggestive._

And when she garbled some sentence about being busy, he interrupted her with another question. “And how has your husband been taking care of you? Does he know your name yet?” and when she did not reply, “you can never tell with somebody of his ‘age’.” The stress on ‘age’ made her angry. She wanted to get over this ordeal as soon as possible.

“My husband has been taking good care of me, not that I am a mare that requires upkeep. We are married Oberyn, not that you will understand what it means. You have always had different ideas for the institution.” Andy could not hold it back any longer. 

“I may not believe in marriage, but I did believe in love, and I loved you. But you- ”

“Let us not discuss old events again, Oberyn.” Andromeda was walking faster, as if to avoid him. But he kept up with her.

“-And to spite me, you married my greatest adversary. Bravo to you Andromeda, you really speared me in my heart.” He held her back by her arm. _The nerve of this man. “_ We are here, look at this beautiful view,” he said gesturing to the bay. Andy was furious.

“You are delusional if you think I have made any decisions in my life keeping you in my mind,” she said, jerking her arm away from his grasp. “I did not marry Tywin to “hurt” you. I married him because I thought him worthy of being called my husband. An honor that ,sadly, you never possessed.” And with that she turned to leave. “And, touch me next time without my permission and my Lord Husband will have you killed at this very bay.” With this, she left without a glance. Nobody dared talk to her then. 

She reached to her chamber to find her husband sitting at their little dining table. The table was strewn with disheveled papers. Tywin looked up at her and promptly said, “you’re late, I was almost about to start without you.” He gestured to a servant to clear the papers and for dinner to be served. He stood up and as he crossed the table to pull the chair for her to sit, Andy smiled and her entire body was warmed instantly.

As soon as they were seated and wine was served, he served her wine and said, “I have been engrossed in the Realm’s work lately. The war is upon us.” Andy nodded and smiled a small smile at him. _This was his way of apologizing._ “You haven’t been attending the Iron Court,” he was looking at Linney trying to catch moths in the garden. _So he did notice her absence._

“Yes, ever since Apollo left, I have been finding it hard to pay attention to matters of the Realm.” _What she wanted to say was that she could not bring herself to go anywhere but the temple. Her faith was the only thing that tethered her to reality_.

“During times of unrest an ordinary man finds solace in his faith, but you, my lady, are not an ordinary man. You are bestowed with powers and privileges that few possess. And with these privileges comes the responsibility to provide for the ones lesser than us. Especially during difficult times.” With this, he looked at her and Andy nodded. She understood what he meant. Probably this was the first time that Andy realized how difficult it must be for Tywin to have his son go to war. For the first time, Andy realized that Tywin was a strong man. His eldest son was at a war that he might lose, and Tywin had continued to fulfil his duty for the Realm.

It was then that a deep appreciation for her husband rose in Andy’s mind. Food was shortly served and they began eating in comfortable silence. What Tywin would never confess to Andy was that this was the first time in a moon that he had enjoyed his meal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a looooong hiatus, but I am BACK BABY! tell me what you think about this chapter in the comments! ❤💕


	19. Ghosts of the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin and Andy talk to each other.

Days slipped away like sand from a closed fist. The reports of the War Councils grew grimmer by the day. The wrath of Robb Stark was advancing on the Westerlands. With every victory, his confidence grew and he dared come closer to Casterly Rock, the seat of House Lannister. Oxcross, Yellow Fork, and all along the Trident river, the Stark forces had built its strongholds and captured Lannister armies. While Robb Stark had taken part of his forces to invade the Westerlands, most of the day to day fighting of the war continued in the Riverlands. All of the territories between  Riverrun on the Red Fork of the  Trident River and  Harrenhal at the north shore of the  Gods Eye lake to the south were a war zone facing raids and counter-raids by Stark-Tully and Lannister forces. Jaime was captured somewhere near Harrenhaal, while most of the Lannister Army had been diverted to Casterly Rock. Apollo Panthyraal had reached Harrenhaal with his army. Tywin had strictly ordered Apollo to stay at Harrenhaal and not advance to Riverrun till he arrived with the flank of Panthyrosi army. Tywin knew that while Apollo can very well hold Harrenhaal, he does not have the strength to advance to Rivverun. 

And there were no reports of Jaime’s whereabouts.  _ Absolute silence is worse than false rumors, Tywin knew. _ The only reports available were from the soldiers who were sent to Casterly Rock. Tywin knew what Jaime was trying to do. He knew his  _ honourable son _ . Always trying to do the  _ honourable _ thing.  _ Look where it had gotten him now!  _ He had diverted his army to Casterly Rock, fearing an attack to the Seat of House Lannister, and had met him in an open field somewhere near Harrenhaal, hoping Robb Stark would again not show up. But he had, and he had taken Jaime hostage. Tywin had deployed almost half of the Panthyrosi Army to pressurise Robb Stark.  _ But to no avail.  _ Tywin was vexed at nobody but Varys and Baelish. They had more informers than the rest of them combined, and they had no knowledge of his son’s whereabouts. The sickly faces of both of them when he had come down on them in a Small Council’s Meeting was little respite. But not  _ enough _ . He needed to know more. _ And soon.  _

There was also the matter of the Targaryen girl. The Targaryen girl in the East was last heard of in Qarth. The last report of Jorah Mormont, a spy in her hoard, informed them of her having survived the death of her Khal husband. Spies in Qarth and little birds of Varys informed them of her dragons.  _ They were but rumors, but even rumors have a salt of truth in them, and the truth worried Tywin deeply. _ Tywin and his generation had all but read of the might of dragons. For him and for the entire realm, dragons were a distant nightmare. But they were real.  _ As real as the skeletons that lined the halls of Aerys Targaryen. _ They must be gathering dust in some dungeon now, but then, when Tywin had just become the Hand to the Mad King, they shone brilliantly in the Hall. The ivory of the skeletons shone brilliantly against the fires that never stopped blazing in the Hall. Although the last dragon had died in the reign of Aegon III, a century and a half ago, faint whispers had reached Tywin that said otherwise. Even the wildest rumors have a whisper of truth in them, and Tywin was not going to let the situation go out of hand. 

That day of the end of Robert’s Rebellion was not forgotten by Tywin. It was stuffy that day, he remembered. The sky hung low, as if to watch the war unfold. The moment they had entered the gates of the capital, the dead body of King Aerys, the slaughters that had not ended till Elia Martell and her children’s bodies were laid in the Iron Court, all of these images burned in his eyes even today. Every detail was fresh as ink in his mind. So were the reports of the escape of Queen Rhaella with Prince Viserys with her loyal retainers. Accounts of her being pregnant had been confirmed by Pycelle. So, the possibility of her having given birth at Dragonstone and her children being smuggled to Free Cities are not so outrageous as others seem it to be. He remembered the aftermath of the Rebellion too. He remembered his daughter’s wedding, probably the last time he had seen his daughter laugh joyously. He remembered the rounds of discussions and negotiations that went on with the Martells before they claimed fealty to King Robert. Lord Alizaar had helped Tywin then. He had taken it upon himself to get its sister kingdom to unite under the fold. And maybe, he would be of help now as well. Dorne and Tygrysaar were the only two kingdoms that could resist Aegon’s conquest three hundred years ago, and Tywin believed that Alizaar could help him this time too.

“I assumed you called me because you could not sleep? Need a hand with that?” And he laughed uproariously and settled in the chair opposite Tywin’s. Tywin was in no mood for jests. He put his quill down, and looked at his friend. 

“I wanted to talk to you about some news from the East.”

“News from the East sounds serious. Hmmph let me guess, is it about the dragon girl?” The light tone of Lord Alizaar was setting Tywin on edge. 

“So, you have heard too?” He said, harsher than he meant to. 

“Many traders come to Tygrysaar from Qarth and I have been hearing some things. What do you have in mind, my Lord Hand?”

“Baelish tells me that King Robert had sent an assassin, but he failed. Jorah Mormont was supposed to spy for us but it seems he has turned too.”

“Ah, Robert should've known better. Assassins have never worked against a Targaryen. As for Mormont, he never had his loyalties straight even when he was in our fold.”

“Be that as it may, we now need to find a way to nip that in the bud. An insurgency in the East is hardly the thing we have time for at present.”

“Hm, something must be done about it.” Tywin watched Alizaar as thought deeply for a moment. “Leave it to me, my Lord. Consider it your wedding present.” And that was the end of it. Tywin knew better than to ask for details. Alizaar was not a man that you could direct into doing something. Still, a large weight was removed off of his chest. Tywin felt relieved. 

And with that the old lord stood up and walked towards the doors. “I take it this is your last meeting of the day?” And when Tywin did not answer, “it is late, you should retire to your chambers now, go to sleep. The war can wait Tywin, women cannot.” with a grip on his shoulder that could only mean that this was not a suggestion.

Tywin could not say anything in reply. It was late, even though these days he worked for one more hour usually. He took his friend’s advice to heart and retired to his chambers. 

_ Or were they her chambers now? Since he had not slept in “their” chambers for the past moon.  _ He had slept in the chamber next to his solar, a simple chamber with none of the pomp of their bedchambers. A small hearth and large windows, this chamber had become his resting place. He had been working later than usual, and disturbing a young woman while she slept did not make a good idea, and therefore, he had retired to these chambers.  _ Though, he was not able to fully sleep in that room. _ He chalked it up to the difference in bedding, and the pillow being a trite smaller than what he was accustomed to. But in his heart, he knew it was because he had become accustomed to sleep near a person, after all these years once more. 

The fact that he was hesitating in entering the chamber only irritated him more. With a deep breath, he knocked on the doors, and immediately regretted it.  _ Am I some sort of servant, waiting to enter my Lord’s bed chamber? _ But now that he had knocked, propriety dictated that he wait for a reply, and wait he did until he heard shuffling of feet, and the doors opened. 

Andy was in her night shift, and judging by the lack of alit candles, she was just about to sleep. But her face shone up when he saw him, and Tywin felt a little smile creeping up on his usually stern face. _ But he controlled it. _ Though his posture relaxed considerably. 

“Oh it's you. Why did you knock like that my Lord?” As if he were her friend, she waved a hand and dismissed his arrival. 

“Like what, my lady.” 

“Like you do not have the right to enter. These are your chambers after all.” Tywin could not control that smile any more, it was a good thing that Andy did not notice since her back was turned to him.

She walked back inside and settled on the chaise lounge. The bed was neatly made, but there were a few accoutrements at odd places that Tywin did not recall being there. The bench in front of the poster bed, that earlier was the seat of his sword and riding gear, was now covered in fabric and scarves. There was a new rug near the dressing table. It was tiger skin.  _ Ofcourse. _ A scythe hung on the wall on her side of the bed. And two open caskets, filled with more of the fabric that covered the bench. 

“I do apologise for the mess. In your absence, this chamber has become quite a junction for designing the dresses of not one but three prominent ladies of the Court for the wedding of the Queen Regent,” came a voice behind the tall chaise lounge. Tywin followed the voice, and found his wife spread in one corner of the lounge, her legs stretched in front of her on the table, and in her hand was a heavy book. He crossed over to the other side where the canister of wine was kept, poured himself a goblet and set down on the lounge. 

The solitary candle-stand behind Andy and the slow fire in the hearth made for a warm glow in the entire chamber. Tywin felt himself relax as he sipped the wine. There was a warmth in this room that he had come to like. Must be the quality of candles and lanterns. But he knew, it was the presence of his wife that he had come to like. Never imposing or drawling, his wife was never a burden on him. She was a self-possessed woman who could hold her own in front of him. Tywin was accustomed to watching  _ grown _ Lords and Kings not being able to hold their own in front of him.  _ But she could and did _ . And this only made him like her. The weather outside was pleasant. It had stopped raining since the past few days and the air was crisp. 

He observed Andy silently as she read. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, it is the Lore of the Long Night by Maester Jaherdin.” Tywin nodded in response. He remembered this book. It was taken from his own library. 

“Maester Jaherdin was not a man of few words,” she chortled to herself. 

“I remember being forced to read Maester Jaherdin’s records of the Targaryen Conquest when I was young. He is too verbose for my liking.” Tywin was looking at the fire in the hearth and when he turned to look at her, she turned her gaze away and went back to her book. Tywin continued to look at her. Her hair was untied and covered her face as she looked down at her book. Slowly, her fingers came up to her cheek and pushed the locks of hair behind her ear. She wore a loose ruby ring with the face of a tiger on her third finger, and as it caught light it twinkled softly. Tywin felt his mouth become dry. He drank deeply from his goblet and averted his eyes from her cheeks. 

“My  _ babi- _ maternal grandmother - used to tell us about the Long Night when we couldn't sleep at night. She believed that the “Last Hero” was not a man but a woman. She was the wife of Azor Ahai and she was the one who united the First Men and the Children of the Forest. She was blessed by the Goddess of Fire, and so she could end the Cold Night after Azor Ahai was killed.” Tywin watched her lips move as she talked. He nodded in response. Andy’s face, which was smiling small before, was overcast now, as if in deep thought. 

“Is something troubling you?” A question that Tywin asked in earnest sounded trite in his mind. Andy simply shrugged and looked down at her lap, effectively covering her face with her hair. “I remember when I was a child, we would play in  _ babi’s _ chambers all the time. We would pretend to fight the White Walkers. We would throw old white sheets over the Suit of Armors and pretend they were White Walkers. Fallen drumsticks from the yard below would be our swords, which we would hone into sharp sticks for hours. Our crusade would begin at the Ghat outside the palace. We would assemble our army, a ragtag team of my brothers, the children of our wetnurse  _ Suri _ and  _ Charu _ , and really anybody that had a moment to spare in the palace. We would sneak in through the Southern Gates of the palace and take the narrow stairs near the  _ Diwankhand  _ to reach Babi’s chambers. Outside her bedchamber was a large hallway, which became our battlefield. You see, all along the hallway, tall Suit of Armors would stand covered in bedsheets. And we, the First Men. Aster would be the Commander of Eastern Forces, and Archer would be the Commander of Western Forces. Apollo and I would always fight over the role of Azor Ahai, and I would always hate losing to him”. Andy was smiling but her eyes were unmoving. “That was, until my  _ babi _ told us that the defeater of the Long Night was actually the wife of Azor Ahai. I was so happy that day, because from then onwards I would always play the role of the First Woman.” Besides the crackling of the fire, there was only silence in the room. Tywin looked at Andy and he could see his wife as a child. A little girl with the same cheeks and kohl lined eyes, running around with a drumstick. Andy looked up at Tywin and she smiled, and Tywin noticed that tears had welled in her eyes.

Instinctively, Tywin’s hand outstretched and came to rest at her cheek. Along with his hand, his body inched closer to her too, and instinctively, Andy leaned into his touch until she could rest her head into the crook of his neck. Through the deep recesses of his mind’s memories, an instinct rose within him. Tywin’s arm laced through her thick hair until it reached around her shoulders and held her closer to him. Andy’s arm came to rest across Tywin’s lap as Tywin let a breath that he had involuntarily held in.  _ Gestures of love and care always seemed forced to Tywin, a man who had not touched another with warmth in decades.  _ But not right now. _ He silently comforted his wife. _ It felt right.  _ It felt warm.  _ The silence of the room was pierced periodically by a nightlark outside and the breaking of waves. 

“Meda, your brother is a brave soldier. He will return.” A promise he made, not knowing what he was promising. But she clutched on to the empty promise, and she clutched him tight for a moment, until she let go of him suddenly. The veil of propriety returned on his wife at once.  _ The little girl was gone.  _ She returned to her side of the lounge, though his palm touched her upper back. Tywin did not move his arm. “ I am sorry, for losing my composure,” Andy said in a stoic voice. Tywin said nothing in response, but offered his cup to her, which she accepted with a teary smile. He appreciated his wife’s strength then. Time and again Tywin was a witness to his wife’s resolution and sheer courage. Although he had never been the one to stay behind while loved ones fought for him, he empathised with his wife.  _ It is equally difficult for the ones who wait for the ones who fight. _ His son was in the same war as her brother, and he felt as if he shared that one similarity with her. Though Tywin had never mentioned it to anybody, even to Kevan, even to himself, he confessed to her, “I worry about Jaime too, sometimes. But then I think about how I have done everything I can to prepare him for it. And that I need to be his strength. That is what you should be doing too. Especially since we both have people relying on us. You have your two brothers and I have two children.” Tywin sat horrified. Things that he never told himself came sputtering out. He felt vulnerable.  _ He felt queasy _ . He did not know what was going to be her response, but he felt awkward. He looked at her to gauge her reaction. She was simply playing with a loose thread in her smock. 

“You are right. I pray for Lord Jaime as much as I pray for my brother.”  _ So, this girl thinks she can comfort me.  _ He could have ridiculed her and explained to her that the Gods that are listening to her prayer couldn't give a shit about any of them. But he didn't. He simply nodded and somewhere from within him, a calmer voice said, “thank you, and I will make sure your brother returns safely.”  _ Why was he making promises to this girl? Why did he wish to comfort her? Why was he confiding in her? _

But then she faced him and did something that only a tigress would have the courage to do. She kissed Tywin squarely on his lips.All the swirling questions in his mind were snuffed out the moment her lips touched his. She brought her hand to rest on his cheek and Tywin swore he could evaporate in the air. She drew away in but a moment, but the loud beating in his heart would lead anybody to believe otherwise. She drew away, but stayed close. Her body was leaning on him as she watched the ambers in the fire. Tywin simply put his arm around her and drew her closer.  _ She was his warmth and he needed her close. _ He did not know how they sat like that in silence. 

Tywin did not remember when Andy had fallen asleep in his arms. He realised when he tried to get up to go to sleep but she did not move. Ultimately, he had to carry her to bed. It had been a long, long time since he had picked up a woman and put her to bed.  _ And he was sorely out of practice. _ But through all the flailing, Andy did not wake up. When he picked her up in his arms, he was careful not to make any noise. But his wife was sound asleep. When he put her on the bed, she simply turned to face the other side. Tywin nearly let out a laugh when he saw her do that. How innocent she seemed then.  _ Like a child. _ He remembered putting his own children to bed. Jaime would fight the most, and Cersei would be the most playful. He remembered how he spent hours putting them both to sleep, since they kept waking each other up. Those were some of his fondest memories with his children.  _ He did not remember doing this with Tyrion. _

That night, as Tywin slept, his heart was heavy with the memories of his children. His son, tied to a stump somewhere. His daughter, about to marry a cripple. And Tyrion. Across the bed, his wife was asleep but her dreams were of her brothers. Her playing with her brothers in Tygrysaar. Their laughter, their joy, their innocence. That night, the ghosts of the past roamed freely in the chambers of the Hand, as did the ghosts of upcoming War in all of the Realm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me how you like it in the comments!!


	20. A Night of Stargazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tygrosi gathering of Stargazing is hosted by Lady Andromeda. Tywin is forced to attend to pay the emotional debt that has been racked up against him. However, the night ends up being more memorable than he had thought.

It happens sometimes, Tywin had realised of late. When you have not been around any person, _really been around anybody_ , you forget what a human smells like. You forget the smell of freshly washed skin, of warm cheeks and wet mouths. You forget the smell of hair, the smell of sun on a cheek, the smell of warmth of a back pressed into your chest. It was strange for him, these days. _It was as if he was being reacquainted to being a human._ His days began with the warmth of Andy’s face or some tentacle of hers on him. For the first time in his life he had not noticed that it had begun to get chilly. Only when he stepped out of the bed and his naked feet touched the cold stone floor did he realise that autumn was upon the Capital. Behind him, his wife would look for him in her sleep and when she would not find him, would face the other side and pull the blankets tighter around her. 

The entire day would be spent in the affairs of the Realm. He would not have a chance to even glance in her direction, though most days he would catch a glimpse of her as she would pass him in the hallways of the Keep. When this would happen, he would bow his head a little and continue walking. To others, this might seem cold or even standoffish, but to them it was their way of greeting each other. _Though, he would catch his wife smile a little every time she would see him._

At the end of every day, however, he would make a point to have his last meal with her at the table adjacent to their gardens. This was something that he had grown accustomed to. Her presence was never foreboding or imposing. _Some nights, they would talk a lot._ Their discussions, or rather debates, would extend hours past dinner, and would be mostly about an obscure point of history or philosophy. It would end with either of them rushing to the library and bringing a heavy book to prove their point and the other defending their stance till the servants meekly entered to clear the food and books from the table. 

People would think that after an entire day of sitting on the Iron Throne or spending an entire day of arguing and deliberating, the Hand of the King would want to avoid a spirited debate with his wife. But Tywin thoroughly enjoyed those debates with his wife. He liked to see her argue passionately about a little topic and defend it like her life depended on it. Her spirit and enthusiasm really made him feel _happy_ . He had realised that for a girl her age, his wife was really knowledgeable. It was not uncommon for her to agree to him at the end of dinner but bring Maester Pycelle or an older, thicker book to his solar in the middle of the day and prove him wrong. Tywin would pretend to be annoyed at losing, but inside he was always _happy_ to have lost to a worthy adversary. _What he would not admit is the smile that came on his wife’s face when she was proved right made his entire solar shine bright for a few seconds._

Other times, they would eat in silence. But their silence was never _oppressive_. They would simply eat their food while the crickets and the night larks chirped in the gardens. He had expected his wife to be fussy or even upset that her husband was not excited to gossip with her, but he had found that Andromeda never really minded his silence. She would go into her own head, thinking of something otherworldly, while he did the same. It was as if she understood him in that manner. She was not like other people he met everyday. People who would crumble under silence. Who would try to fill it by any means possible. Who could not be alone with their thoughts. To him this was their biggest weakness. But not Andromeda. She would swim in silence like a leaf in a slow stream. This was her biggest strength. Only she did not know it yet. 

Then, he would sit in his solar and work for some more time while she would retire to their chambers. And when Tywin would retire to their bedchambers for the day, it would be after midnight, when she would already be asleep or on the verge of falling asleep. 

Tyrion had changed too, it dawned on Tywin. In a subtle way. He was drunk less and he was responsible more. Somewhere inside of him Tywin always _knew_ that Tyrion was clever, but his indiscipline is what came in the way always. _Indiscipline and whoring._ Now that he had “settled” so far as he could tell, he had become more level-headed. Tyrion had begun attending all meetings and had taken to his role of the Master of Coins really well. Oftentimes he would disturb Tywin late at night with some discrepancy in the accounts, and even though Tywin scoffed and huffed at him, deep inside he was glad to watch him interested in the matters of the Realm. 

It was not until he had pointed this out to Kevan over lunch one day that he realised something new about his own wife. 

“Kevan, have you noticed a change in Tyrion these days?” Tywin said, picking a piece of honeyed pear from the plate. 

“What do you mean?” Kevan replied, bringing the goblet of wine to his lips and looking over at Tywin. 

“He seems- he seems more responsible.” 

“That he does. Only yesterday he kept me up till midnight over some mistakes in the coffer accounts of Casterly Rock. I nearly went blind reading the scripts, but he would not let me go.” 

“I think his marriage to the Stark girl has done him good. It was a good decision of mine. I still remember you worrying about their nuptials.” Tywin could not help but gloat. 

“Well, don't be so quick to take all the credit of this, Tywin. This was not a singular effort ”, said Kevan solemnly. 

“What do you mean?” Tywin narrowed his eyes. He could sense that he was being made fun of. 

“You can't be so quick to ignore the efforts made by Lady Andromeda, Tywin. I think if anybody deserves the credit, it is her,” Kevan said nonchalantly. 

“What are you talking about?” Tywin was genuinely confused. _What had his wife done for Tyrion’s marriage?_

“Well, it is because of Lady Andromeda that Lady Sansa and Lord Tyrion have developed an affinity towards each other. You know how Lady Andromeda and Lord Tyrion have been friends since before your marriage. Your wife made a point to invite Lady Sansa everywhere she went ever since they got married. They often share lunches or are seen in the Grand library. When they are not frolicking with each other, they go riding and painting and what not! They've really become thick as thieves. _And_ she has made it a point to include Lord Tyrion in every activity too. So, if anybody deserves the credit, it is your wife.”

And when Tywin did not know what to say, Kevan continued, “it took some time for Tyrion to connect with Sansa, but your wife made them comfortable with each other, I guess.”

“I will be honest, I did not know any of this”, Tywin said looking at his lap. He felt dumbfounded by the fact that he did not know what his wife did during the day. 

“How did you not notice this? Your wife spends most of her time with Lady Sansa or Lord Tyrion these days.” Tywin tried to jog his memory but he could not find any instance that could support this. He knew that his wife had made friends with the Stark girl, but he did not know that they had grown this close. What she did, who she met was all a mystery to him. 

And when again, Tywin did not answer Kevan asked softly “do you know anything about your wife’s day Tywin?”

This question stayed with Tywin. He knew he needed to make amends. And soon. But he did not know how. 

A small purple letter perched on his table proved to be the answer. Inside the purple letter, with golden ink and flourishes, his presence was requested for a Night of Stargazing. Before he could scoff and throw this letter into the bin, his eyes skimmed the body of the letter and peeked at the signature. _Signed by Lady Andromeda Lannister._ He immediately informed his squire to remind him precisely one hour before sunset and the purple letter, instead of meeting its end in the bin, was neatly kept on the table of the Hand, near his hourglass and compass. 

Normally, Tywin would have scoffed and ignored such invites for such silly gatherings, but his conversation with Kevan had made him realise that he had not been with his wife for _too long_. It had dawned on him that maybe he was not making as much effort as his young wife was. Instances after instances played in his mind where his wife had done something that he had liked. Whether it be something as small as setting a fresh bowl of tangerines in his solar because she had once heard him say that they were his favourite fruit. Or be it as big as helping his deviant son in his married life, emotional debt had been racked up against him. And a Lannister always pays his debts. Be it material or emotional. 

-~o0o~-

Andromeda was standing at the Balcony facing the Bay. The wind was calm tonight and the full moon had just begun to rise. In the air there was a faint smell of gardenia flowers and pumpkins from the adjacent gardens. _Autumn was here_. Around her, servants were scrambling around making last minute adjustments. Round tables had been set outside in the balcony and large candle stands had been replaced by lanterns on every table. The musicians had just started playing their music. Along the ledge, at every window pane, and along the pathway, little lanterns had been kept. It was pleasant right now but Andromeda knew it would get chilly as the night progressed. She peered up at the sky and it was as clear as glass. A few stars had begun to twinkle in the sky already. It was the perfect night to stargaze. 

It was a tradition of the East to celebrate the fifteenth day of autumn by gazing at the stars and predicting the next year. After all, they believed that the stars were roadmaps for the future. Over time this activity was coupled with a gathering, games and music. Tygrysaar went one step forward and organized an Autumnal fair. Andromeda remembered sneaking out of her chambers at night and going to the Autumnal fair with Vega and her brothers. They would remove all the gold and dress in simple dresses borrowed from their handmaids to merge in the crowds. Presently, she heard the footsteps and turned to find her dear friends, Sansa and Tyrion. 

“Lady Andromeda, you look absolutely resplendent this fine evening,” Lord Tyrion bowed at her and kissed her right hand. _As if they had not just met her a few hours ago for lunch._

“Lord Tyrion, it is such a pleasure to see you tonight! And Lady Sansa! You look ravishing under the moonlight,” Andromeda reciprocated the formal tone of Tyrion. They all laughed. 

“But really, Sansa, you look really beautiful.” Sansa blushed in response, “Thank you Andromeda. This dress was Tyrion’s choice.” 

“Yeah, who knows, I might just become a dressmaker.” Andromeda laughed heartily. 

“That reminds me, our dresses for Queen Regent’s wedding have arrived. Come to my chambers tomorrow morning, we shall try them out together.” 

“I am sure they are beautiful. You know Tyrion, Andromeda dismissed more than ten dressmakers of King’s Landing in one day before settling on Madame Fairwittle.”

“Oh! I had to, Sansa. They were all _terrible_.” Andromeda wrinkled her nose. “It is the wedding of the Queen Regent after all,” she said smiling slyly at Sansa, “we cannot skimp on our outfits.” 

“Lady Andromeda!” Tyrion feigned horror. “I didn't peg you for a persnickety fair maiden! Or is it living with a despotic man that has changed your disposition?” They all laughed in response. 

“Oh Tyrion, if anything, living with your father has made me a more considerate person.” Tyrion and Sansa exchanged glances.

“Seems like you really enjoy your time with my Lord Father.” Tyrion smirked, but his eyes showed genuine appreciation for Andromeda. “Can't imagine what that must feel like,” he said under his breath. Sansa rolled her eyes at him. 

“I do, I really do,” she said, serving them the drinks that the servant had brought for them. Tyrion’s eyes were piercing into Andromeda’s to find any sign of falsity, but he could not. _She was genuinely happy to be with him._ He smiled then. 

“This drink is delicious. Do I taste cinnamon?” 

“Hmm, you have a refined palate Tyrion”. 

“Well, a lifetime of unthinkable affluence and debauchery will give anybody a refined palate.” 

“Hah! If you say so,” Sansa smirked at her husband. Just then, the doors were opened and the rest of the party started joining them. All the prominent Lords and Ladies of King’s Landing had been invited to the gathering. In Andromeda’s opinion, this was a good opportunity for her and her family to acclimatize to the Lords and Ladies of the West. Since the Queen Regent’s wedding was to be held soon, many of the Great Houses and their vassals had already arrived at the Capital to gather Lord Tywin’s favor. 

Her hostess duties called to her and Andromeda left her friends and began mingling with the crowd. The first people she met were her brothers who were talking to two young Tyrell cousins. Although they were not twins, they looked eerily similar to Andromeda in the faint light. Next, she whizzed past Lord Petyr Baelish and Lord Varys, who seemed to be discussing a serious matter in hushed tones. As she met the vassal Lords and Ladies of House Lannister, the full weight of being Lady Lannister was felt by Andromeda. They bowed deeply at her and their words were measured with deep reverence. Even as she walked past people that she did not know, or could not recognise, she felt eyes on her and everybody seemed to bow at her. _Or at her husband who was nowhere to be seen. Even in his absence, she was cloaked in his presence._

Her eyes scanned the crowd every few minutes but could not find him. After a while, when she had felt that she had introduced herself to nearly everyone, she walked to the ledge of the Balcony for some quiet. She watched the water lapping at the shore below her in the distance. Even amidst the loud music and a crowd louder still, the sound breaking of water on the shore was unmistakable. 

“Beautiful isn't it, how the sea never silences itself?” said a deep voice behind her. Andromeda could not suppress the smile that came on her face. 

“You came!” Her face was brighter than the moon. She had to stop herself from embracing her husband in front of the entire Realm. Even though it was so dark nobody would see them. But she knew her husband would not appreciate a gesture of excitement. 

“How could I not? When Lady Andromeda Lannister herself invited me. I was counting the hours to this party, my lady.” _Was it the moonlight or was he smiling?_ She simply smiled in response and brought her drink to her lips. 

“And what a turnout! Everybody seems eager to gain your favor, my lady.” With that quip his hand came to her face and pushed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. _An act that seemed so small to the outside world that nobody would even take note of it made her blush._

“Do you like it, Tywin?” she asked, gesturing towards the crowd and the decorations like a little child. She immediately regretted it. _How stupid must he think I am?_ But Tywin simply said, “I like it very much, Andromeda”. His eyes never left her face when he said it. _A wave of lightning passed through her entire body._ She knew that she was about to be reckless that night, she only did not know how. 

Just then, the music swelled to a crescendo, signaling the commencement of the feast. Everybody began taking their seats on the tables. Andromeda ushered Tywin to the table that she had booked for just them. It faced the sea. Next to them, on their own little tables were Tyrion and Sansa and Queen Margery and Ser Loras. Her own family sat in the middle of the Balcony. _The centre of attention always._ King Joffrey had gone for his hunt, which was a relief as per her father. King Joffrey had acquired a new habit of getting sloshed drunk at every gathering and embarrassing everybody around him. But where was Queen Cersei? Andromeda looked at Sansa, and she understood exactly what she meant. She looked around too, and caught Queen Margery’s eyes, who looked around too but the Queen Regent was nowhere to be found. Sansa and Margery signalled for Andromeda to enjoy her dinner, and Andromeda pulled her focus back to Tywin, who was simply looking at her. He was reminded of Kevan’s words then. It seemed his wife had really made friends with Lady Sansa and Queen Margery. _Something his own daughter could not do in so long, his wife had done in a few months._

“It is a good night for stargazing. The sky is clear tonight,” he said. She nodded in response. “After the dinner, we will extinguish half the lanterns and look at the stars and predict the future.” Andromeda said nonchalantly, taking a bite out of the scrumptious food that had been served to her. 

“And, how does one do that?” said Tywin. His question had no edge as he took a bite out of his food. Everybody around them followed suit. The music started anew.

“Well, you see, we believe that the stars are a map to the future. If you look at the stars close enough, they make shapes. And these shapes foretell your future.” And when she saw Tywin’s confused face, she added, “don't worry husband, I have also arranged for a Tygrosi Seer to join us. He will guide us through the process.” 

“Now I am relieved!” He pretended to sigh. “I thought I would have to listen to you talk about something you know nothing about all night!” Andromeda had grown to enjoy her husband’s dry humor. 

“I do happen to know quite a bit about astronomy. It's a loss really, that you will not get to hear any of it.” Andromeda said, huffing dramatically. Tywin laughed openly at this. She joined too. Tywin took a deep swig of his drink and exclaimed, “hmm, is there cinnamon and nutmeg in this?” Andromeda simply smiled at how alike the father and son were. Across the table, Tyrion was making Sansa and Margery laugh uproariously by no doubt mimicking a prominent personality.

Andromeda was having a good time. Around her, everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves too as the wine and music flowed freely. The faint glow of the lanterns made everything seem softer. 

After dinner, all the lanterns except the ones on the tables were extinguished. _Suddenly, the entire mood of the party shifted._ The music was now fainter and the air was chiller. The excitement in the air was palpable. The scraping of metal chairs on stone was heard every few minutes as couples huddled their chairs together to be closer in the dark. Many stood up and gathered at the ledge, where it was darker still. Few servants walked around serving wine and dessert. The doors opened and in walked a tall Seer. His flowy cape bellowed behind him as he walked to stand at the centre of the Balcony. Everybody turned to face him. He stood solemnly with his hands clasped at his front until the last chair stopped moving. Then he spoke in a soothing voice, “we are gathered here today to watch the cosmic dance of the stars.” He had a familiar Eastern accent.

“Tonight, we will look at a small piece of the universe and we will hope that the universe tells us its secrets.” After every sentence, he would look around the crowd for effect. “We will begin by observing the night sky keenly. I want all of you to stand up and find a place in this palatial Balcony. A place that resonates with you. Take your lover with you to a spot on this beautiful veranda if you are planning your futures together, and avoid standing with anybody that you do not wish to include in your prosperous future.” At this sentence, Andromeda heard a scoff from Tyrion as he said, “where can I find a spot away from everybody now?” Archer laughed in response and earned a stern look from the Seer that straightened both of them in their chairs.

He continued, “I want you to really look at the stars and observe the shapes they make. Every shape is a story. Your future is right above you, you just have to connect the dots.” With this, he clapped his hands together and everybody stood up and started shifting. Some of the older invitees or the more drunk invitees kept sitting in their chairs. Andromeda looked around her. Tyrion was refusing to stand up and kept insisting that, “Sansa, look! The stars are telling me that I must keep sitting and drinking this wine”, but ultimately, with a surprisingly strong pull from Sansa, he wobbled out of his chair and they walked towards the ledge facing the hills. 

Andromeda stood up as Margery walked to her, squeezed her hand and gushed, “this is a really beautiful gathering, Andy. Thank you for inviting us.” She kissed her on her cheek and left with Loras towards the gardens. Behind them, the Seer spoke loudly, “Remember, the stars speak to those who listen. Be not afraid to listen.” 

She turned to Tywin as he offered her his left arm as they walked. “Are you excited to listen to the stars, Andromeda?” His voice had a clear tone of mockery, but it warmed her just the same. “I am, Tywin. I cannot wait to find out what our stars tell us about our future.” 

“Do you believe in destiny, Andromeda?”

“I suppose I do. But more than that I believe that destiny favors the brave.” At this, she saw him smile to himself. 

“Do you believe in destiny, Tywin?” “No, I do not. I believe that we are the makers of our destiny.”

“Is there nothing that you seek from your future?” Andromeda was genuinely curious to find out. He thought for a moment, during which he nodded at the people that were gawking at them in the dark.

He said after a while, “I only seek the strength to move forward.” She nodded in response.

“What do you seek from the future?” He returned the question to her. By then they had reached the ledge that they were standing at earlier. As she turned to face the sea, she realised that nobody else was standing near them except a few Lannister soldiers who were stationed at the entrances. _She marveled at her husband’s tactical mind._ She stood facing the sea, while Tywin faced her. He rested his elbow on the ledge, with his forearm stretched along the ledge. Standing this close to him made her mind go fuzzy for a few seconds. She could feel the heat of his body around her. She looked up at the sky and said, “I only seek the happiness and safety of my family.” With this, she placed both her hands on his forearm. _He did not withdraw._ When she looked at him, he was looking up at the sky. She joined him. 

“What do you see?” she asked. 

“A bunch of stars.” 

“Do you see those four ones”, she pointed in the distance. And when he did not see it, “the brightest ones. Follow my finger.” 

“Hmm, I see them.” 

“Now, do you see how the three stars on the left that make a straight line. Follow my finger. See. On the left, Tywin.” 

“Hmm, sort of.” _He could not see anything._

“Now, that is a horse. And look at the three stars that cut the square. See that? That is a bow.” 

“Okay...” Tywin sounded unsure.

“That entire constellation forms a hunter on his horse. My brother Orion was named after that constellation.” Andromeda smiled at Tywin, and he did not have in his heart to tell her that he could not see anything. 

“Do you see that star, Tywin? The brightest star in the sky?” 

“Hmm, the North Star.” _Any sailor worth his salt would know the North Star._

“We call it Sekhmet. After the Goddess of Life and Death.” Tywin smiled a small smile. Looking up at the stars, he realised that this activity meant a lot to his wife. After all, the Panthyraals followed the naming pattern of stars.”

“And, which one is Apollo?” he asked, getting closer to her. _Solely because it was getting cooler and his wife had nothing warm on her body and she would catch a cold._ But when she leaned on him, he smiled to himself. The hand that rested on his forearm was drawing patterns as she explained it to him. “Apollo has eleven stars.” And lo she began. Tywin could not keep track, but he nodded all the same when she looked at him. 

They stood there, him listening to her explain indecipherable shapes and her explaining the figures that she had grown up watching. “Now, Tywin. You tell me what you see in the sky. What do the stars tell you about your future.” She mimicked the Seer and laughed at her own quip. He knew he had to participate now. Nodding would not do any more.

“Umm, I don't see anything really.” The sky was oppressively bright, he realised. Too many stars were twinkling upon them. “Seven Heavens! I thought you had a few decades before your eyesight left you!” Andromeda feigned being shocked. He laughed sarcastically in response and pinched her waist to which she squirmed and in turn came closer to his chest. His hand rested on her waist now, holding her there. _Not that she would have moved anyways._

“Tell me, Tywin, please”, and his wife looked at him with the littlest pout. “Now, wife, do not cry. Let us see”, he peered up again, “I see”, but it was really difficult for him. He had never been the imaginative type. She could see him struggling, so she added, “I see our cat Linney. He is playing in our Gardens.” “ _Our cat_ is an overstatement.” But when she threw him a stern look, he said, defeated, “our cat, Linney. I see him. He is chewing on your dresses.” “Really? I see him being chased around the gardens.” “Chased? By what? A dragon?” “By a baby,” she said in the littlest, most hopeful voice.

_A voice so soft, it could've been a whisper, but it shook Tywin to his core._ Surprised, not by the fact that she was hoping to become a mother. _Every girl does that._ But the fact that she was hoping to be a mother to _his_ child. _She was imagining a future with him_ . It was also not as if he did not know what was the natural next step in their relationship. The most important step. An heir. _Was it not why he had married her in the first place?_ But the fact that she wanted it just the same that he did, was something that really surprised him. It warmed his heart and made him shiver with a foreign feeling. It was at that precise moment that he saw her for the first time, _fully_ , as his wife. The weight of that word was never felt so heavily as it had at that moment. He could have hugged her. _And he hated hugs._

She, however, as if an ocean apart did not hear his thoughts, or his heart thumping to get out of his chest, continued, “I see me chasing after that child to not chase after Linney. I see you chastising the three of us for disturbing you in the middle of some important work.” Tywin looked up at the stars too, and saw it too. _Their life with a child._ She leaned into his chest.

“I see you and my brothers safely returned from War. I see my brothers getting married. My father looks so happy. I see Vega carrying a child to birth. She is so happy. I see Ser Jaime returning. He is thinner, but he has not lost his spark. Everybody I love is happy and healthy.” She clutched his arm with both her hands and was leaning on him. He leaned into her touch and wrapped his arms around her. To keep her safe. To hold her down so that she does not float away to the sky. For it was then that Tywin understood why his wife enjoyed this Ritual. It was not because of the fun and frolicking. It was because she was somebody who truly wished happiness on her loved ones and this was a prayer for her to her Gods. A prayer to her stars to keep them happy. A person so pure, Tywin had an uncontrollable urge to protect her then and forever. From the filth of this Realm. _From the filth of his own family._

She turned to face him and he looked down at her, her lips a breath away from his. “What do you see, Tywin?” _He did not have to look up because in her eyes he could see the entire night sky._ “I see my future.”

It was not clear who initiated the kiss, the only thing that mattered was that for the rest of the night, the hostess of the party was _nowhere_ to be found. She was last seen stealing kisses from a tall man in a black surcoat by a drunk Tyrion who was finding a place in the gardens to relieve himself. The next day, nosy handmaidens gossiped to the washerwomen who told the cooks who told the horse-groomers who told the guards who told the squires, and by the that evening every Lords and Lady that was in attendance at the party had known that the Lord Lannister had kept the hostess awake the _entire_ night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Tell me how you like it! 🌟🌜🌚


	21. A winter afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin makes promises to Lord Alizaar, which he will fulfill immediately.

Winter had come for the Capital. _As much as it could._ Andromeda sat at the balcony facing the Bay. It had been more than a month since the last time Tywin and she had stood there on that starry night. It was a bright afternoon and the heat of the sun managed to permeate through the chill of the winter. This was her favourite place to be on winter mornings because the proximity to the Bay kept the temperatures pleasant. Andromeda had just spent the better part of the afternoon with her friends, Queen Margery and Lady Sansa planning the final details of Queen Margery’s baby shower. A baby shower, she was told by her Western friends, was a ceremony to celebrate the birth of the Royal child. It was an entire day of fun and frolicking where no men were allowed to participate. Margery had chosen the Royal Gardens to host her shower and Andromeda and Sansa were helping her finalise the itinerary and the guest list. She was in the final months of her pregnancy and every time Andromeda looked at her full belly, she felt strange thinking about how she could very well look like this someday. On a related note, her moonblood had been late by a few days. She was actively trying not to think about it. Presently, she looked at her friends as they argued about which wine would pair well with pomfret in lotus gravy. Margery was draped in an olive coloured shawl which did not attempt to hide her curvy form. Her dress was made from a sheer green and blue material with a low cut highlighting her ample chest. Sansa was wearing a blue dress with no shawl or covering. Andromeda had noticed how Sansa had become happier as winter had advanced. Maybe it reminded her of her home. From what Sansa had told her, her home in Winterfell was much colder than hers. It was so cold that they had 100 feet of snow outside their walls. Clearly, this weather was better suited to Sansa’s disposition. On the other hand, this was the first time that Andromeda had experienced a _Westerosi_ winter. Back in Tygrysaar, their “winter” was a month of pleasant weather and afternoons where they could run barefoot along the riverbank without burning their soles. 

After lunch, she went to see her Lord husband in his solar. He was joined by Lord Alizaar. They had been strategizing over a detailed map of the North when her presence was announced by his squire.

“Good afternoon my lord, father”, she bowed at both of them. “Come, my child, you look well today. What have you been upto?” Her father said, inviting her to sit beside her.

“Ah, I was just with Queen Margery and Lady Sansa planning the Queen’s baby shower.” 

“What is that?” 

“A war strategy of its own father,” and she sighed and rested her back on the chair. Tywin noted how his wife relaxed considerably in front of her family and friends but would remain formal with him. It was like she was two different people. In front of him, she would always be on guard. _No, that sounded wrong_. She would be more polite. But with her family, especially with her father, his wife was really playful. That's how it should be, should it not? _Daughters should be comfortable with their fathers._ In their own way, Cersei was the same with him. 

“And what are you doing? You both spend more time with each other than either of you do with me. Should I be concerned?” Andromeda pretended to scoff. Tywin chuckled. His wife would’ve never said this if it were just him in the room. He was enjoying this side of his wife. _Boisterous._

“We are planning, what you call it, a baby shower of our own.” Tywin simply nodded in agreement with Alizaar. 

“How is the war going Father?” Andromeda turned serious in a moment’s turn. Tywin could see that she was eager to know more. 

“Nothing you need to worry about sweetheart. You just need to know that your brother is out there slaying the bloody Northerners on their damn horses. And soon your Lord Husband will be joining him, and then Robb Stark, the green boy, will be taught a valuable lesson.”

“That's a relief. Any word on Lord Jaime?” 

“Not yet, but we are working on it, love.”

Andromeda smiled at her aging father then. He was trying so hard to keep it lighthearted. Andromeda knew the situation was not as simple as her father was making it to be. But if she knew one thing, it was that her father had never lost a war, _or a wager_. 

“And when are we having a baby shower in this family, huh? I am ready to be a Grandfather, even if I seem to be too young to be one.” He teased both of them. 

Andromeda blushed and started laughing with her father, “come on father, you are too handsome to be a Grandfather.” 

“Are you calling your Lord Husband ugly then, daughter? Because he is a grandfather of three.” Her father roared in laughter. Andromeda was left looking flustered. 

“On the contrary, I find him to be _quite_ attractive, father.” Andromeda was looking straight at her father. She could not look at Tywin, who was staring at her in shock. Tywin could not believe his wife could be this brazen. Somewhere inside of him, he felt warmth erupting. His jaw was feeling hot suddenly as he realised his wife was not lying. _Attractive?_

“Well then, making a baby would not be too difficult for you both.” At this, Andromeda nearly died of embarrassment. Her entire face was hot. 

“My Lord, we shall practice daily,” said Tywin with a straight face. 

At this, her father howled in response and stood up to leave. Andromeda covered her face with her palms and could not face either of them. His laughter was heard even as the doors were shut behind him. She slowly recovered as she heard the outer doors shut firmly.

“I apologise, my lord, my father is a lunatic sometimes.” And here it was again. _The veil of propriety._ Tywin was not going to let his wife slip back into conventionality when he had seen her other side. _She finds me to be quite attractive?_ He was going to get all answers out of her.

“Come her, Andromeda.” He said in his dry tone. She felt something stir inside of her. His wife walked up to him solemnly. He pushed his chair behind and made her sit on his table. He then pulled his chair close to her such that their legs were touching. _She couldn't get out of this now._ “You find me attractive?” He pretended to be cross with her. She couldn't tell the difference. She was turned on all the same. He liked that. When she did not say anything, he rose from his chair. She gasped a little at how close he was to her. She could smell his perfume. He put his hand under her chin and raised her face to face him. “Answer me, wife.”

She brought her face closer to him. He could feel her breath on his face. She purred, “I do, quite a bit.” She said, parting her legs for him. She was challenging him now. _His tigress._ He wrapped his hands around her waist as they kissed fervently. Whatever work was supposed to be completed was promptly forgotten. With his wife’s legs wrapped around his waist, he could think of nothing else but burying his cock deep inside of her. His ministrations on her neck and chest left red marks, but he did not care. She unbuckled his pants while he was working to take off her dress. His thoughts were snuffed out the moment she started stroking his cock in her hand. Tywin ripped off her small clothes in frustration and positioned her hastily on the edge of the table. The moment he entered her, she stretched her head back. He held her thigh in his arm and the other one was wrapped around him as he thrusted inside her slowly. She came back closer to him then, and wrapped her arm around his neck to get him deeper inside of her. She knew he would leave bruises on her chest with the way he was sucking on her, but she did not care. He did not last long with the way his wife was thrusting back at him. When he finished, he lifted her off the table entirely as he thrust hastily into her, spending himself inside of her. When he put her on the table again, she lay back. She was a vision to behold then, sprawled on his table. Her body had patches of red where he had sucked. Her waist had a mark too. _His hand print._ Her chest was still heaving and her mouth was slightly open as she tried to regain her bearings. Her cunt was glistening in the afternoon sunlight that was making figures on her body. Her hair formed a river on the map. He sat on the chair, admiring her wife’s body. _Her raw body._ A beauty that nobody but him had beheld. _He was in the mood to pray to her._ To bow his head to her and pray. Instead he shut his eyes and enjoyed the light breeze of the winter day. 

When she sat up, she saw her husband with his hands folded on his lap and his eyes closed, as if in deep thought. She smiled a little to herself. Thinking that she should not disturb him, she tried to get off of the table silently but the lion was too sharp. He opened his eyes and caught her by her thigh, “and where are you planning to go, Meda?” His fingers were stroking the underside of her thighs, drawing goosebumps on her skin. His hand snaked up from her thighs and reached her _there._ She gasped in response. His fingers did not stop there. She closed her eyes. His fingers kept exploring till they found that bud on her _there_ and when she moaned in response, his thumb kept circling around it. _She couldn't leave now._ He inserted two fingers inside of her and continued his ministrations. Her body was arched towards him, wanting more of what he was providing with his single hand. Then, with his other hand, he pushed her body to lie down again on his table which she was too weak to refuse to.

Her reverie was only broken when she felt his mouth on her _there_. She gasped loudly. _Somebody was going to come in and catch them in this act._ As quick as her worries had crept in, they fizzled away as he kept _eating_ her out down there. That is the only way she could describe it. Her entire body was in a trance at his attentions. Instinctively, her hand reached the back of his head, _guiding_ him. _Tywin went wild at this._ He inserted his fingers inside of her while he kept using his tongue on her bud. She did not take long to unravel after this. Her orgasm was so loud that he knew his guards had heard her. He did not care. _He had to worship her._ When she got too sensitive to any touch, she tried to push him away.

He sat back on his chair, admiring his wife then. She was the most beautiful creature he had seen then. Her chest was heaving and her mouth was still agape. Her hands were in her hair. He felt a smile coming on his face. When she sat up again, she immediately got off the table, “I am not letting you do anything more to me Tywin, I will faint now.” At this, he laughed openly and she looked sheepish as she scrambled to put on her dress and smoothen her appearance. He was sitting there just watching her. “Do I look like I was just pleasured by the Lord Hand on his table?” she said, trying to tie her hair up without the help of a maid.

“I do not make light of my father-in-law’s expectations, my lady. I intend to keep my promises to him,” he said dryly, as he kissed her lips and she tasted herself on his tongue.


End file.
